For the Love of Snape
by Acantha Rayne Oak-Moon
Summary: Hermione Granger knows many things, more than anyone gives her credit for, which is saying something but what will change when she uses that knowledge to save Severus Snape from death? Made a few edits to chapter 18, this morning, how I originally left it felt a little 'blah.
1. Chapter 1 - Phoenix Tears

Chapter 1 – Phoenix Tears

The sight before her and Harry when they entered the Shrieking Shack had her double over and she retched – there was blood pouring from several puncture wounds on Snape's neck, he was slumped against a wall in the decrepit dwelling, his ever-greasy hair matted against the sticky drying blood which had splattered against his face. How had this man, this stoic, formidable, enviably intelligent man, fallen so far; how had he come to this?

Months on the run had left her with literally nothing to actually leave her stomach, and so the dry heaves slowly abated and her complexion faded from the crimson of forced retching to the sickly off-green of suppressed nausea. Unsure she could face the scene before her again, she struggled to turn back to it but knowing she had to keep Harry safe as long as possible, she returned to it anyway lifting her head.

"Take it, take it" came a gurgling rasp from Snape and many wisps of a silver-blue substance trickled from the dying Death Eater's eyes; Hermione knew, she just knew, without any speculation, consideration or suspicion that this was his side of the story; the memories, the reasoning behind everything he'd done. She knew that in this moment, his last moment, Snape wanted to make amends.

Harry was staring at the greasy haired, dying wizard he had hated for seven years and Hermione recognised the expression on her best friends face; he had no idea what to do.

She didn't even have to think about what to do. This is why she was a part of Harry's life, this was why she was the rational, logical, calm-under-pressure third of the Golden Trio; the fates made her the one who made things possible, the one who paved the way for destinies, the one who knew what to do. She made her decision easily; conjuring a flask from thin air, she thrust it between the two wizards. Harry took it quickly but still seemed unsure of himself as he slowly collected the cascading memories.

"Go Harry! Go to the pensieve. We're running out of time. I'll deal with Snape." She said in a tentative demand when Harry was still hesitating. Hermione had no desire to send him back to the front lines of a magical battle but he had to go; they both knew it, and she had to tend to the dour Potions Master dying in front of her eyes.

Harry scrambled to his feet, and threw his arms around Hermione; "be safe" he muttered, before adding, barely above a whisper, "I love you 'Mione. You're my best friend and my sister and I love you. I can kill him because of you. Be careful!" The next thing she knew her best friend (and brother) had threw the invisibility cloak back over himself and bolted back into the tunnel they had entered through.

Hermione regained her bearings quickly, though tears prickled at her eyes from Harry's declaration; _I can't think about Harry right now_, she didn't have time; _he'll do what he has to do_, as would she – which right now, was concentrating on Snape and his imminent death. She turned to face her ex-professor…

"_Immobulus,"_ she said, with more anxiety than she had ever felt in her life. Snape was suddenly rendered still; his body didn't freeze, his muscles didn't seize as they would have, had she cast _petrificus totalus,_ he merely stopped being able to move. It didn't have quite the effect she was after. The hope was it would stop the blood flow, stop Nagini's venom from spreading. _Bugger! _Her mind backtracked half a step to the spell she contrasted her last one with and again, she knew what she had to do; she pointed her wand at the dying Death Eater once more and…

"_Petrificus Totalus"_ she cried, throwing every ounce of her magic that she could muster into her wand. The spell erupted forcefully from the pointed end of vine wood and headed directly for Snape's wound.

She watched with wide eyes as her magic hit its target and this time, the Professor did seize up, every inch of him was rigidly still, frozen in front of her; no blood flowed from the fang marks that peppered his neck and she had to hope she had caught the venom in time. A little pride touched her heart; she had been able to cast the spell since first year; she remembered casting it on Neville, but to use it to save a life felt very satisfyingly Gryffindor and she had to fight the urge to smile at her achievement. She pushed the thought aside, '_you haven't saved him yet'_, she told herself.

Unsure of how long the spell would last - she trusted her magic but she was sleep deprived from months on the run and a little magically depleted from her participation in the battle that still raged a mile or so away at the castle – she cast a stasis charm over the 'petrificus' to hold it in place and removed her purple beaded bag from her shoulder to rummage inside. It only took about fifteen seconds until she remembered she was a witch; _no wonder this man calls you a dunderhead_, and…

"_Accio phoenix tears" _a slim potion bottle soared from the bag and into her free hand; it contained an opalescent substance, pearly and shimmering. _"Accio cotton wool"_ she added and grabbed her container of cotton balls.

Hermione uncorked the phial and poured the glistening liquid onto a cotton ball with only slightly trembling hands, before dabbing at Snape's punctured neck. The effect was almost immediate; it would have been instantaneous if not for her spells holding the gaping skin apart. As it was, the magical healing of phoenix tears had to work against her magic to do its job. Realising this, Hermione whispered _"finite incantatum" _to cancel her spells.

They both knew his health was restored but he remained silent. Hermione was grateful. She didn't know how to explain herself, wasn't sure she even could explain herself. As far as anyone else knew at this point, Snape had killed Dumbledore in cold blood and re-committed himself fully to the Death Eater forces; only Hermione knew the story that had led to those events and she wasn't ready to share how she knew it. She turned to face him, knowing he was probably moments from regaining his formidable countenance; she had to get back to Harry first.

"I have to get back, Harry needs me," she announced, reminding a bewildered Snape of a younger McGonagall. Her wand returned to pointing into her bag and she wordlessly summoned three more items before handing them to him.

"What is this?" he asked slowly, cautiously.

_Lack of trust, _she thought. _Understandable. Although I did just save his life. _She knew she had to tell him something about what she'd just done; it wouldn't make sense to him otherwise. She took a deep breath.

"Blood replenishing potion; it's my own recipe, focuses on speeding up the naturally occurring division of blood cells – the effects last about an hour. The bottle is just water; it'll help the potion work and you need to rehydrate – I actually collected it from a lake in the South of England; it's said to be the home of the Lady of the Lake; Merlin's magic is believed to still be present there, and the water has been proven to have healing properties. As for the plastic container, there is a ham salad sandwich and some fruit. You need to get your strength back Professor and I really don't have time to stay and play nurse maid. Not that you'd let me."

Snape nodded in what she assumed was acquiescence, or at least acceptance. She knew he wanted more information and decided she'd give him a little more before returning to battle:

"I know you have questions, Professor and I'll answer them all after that bastard is dead. And don't panic, you won't be off to Azkaban for Dumbledore's death either. If I get my way, you'll be honoured with a First Class, Order of Merlin. Please, stay here for now; I know you probably don't want to but it's safer for you if you stay dead, at least to _him._ I'll come and find you when this is all over."

She headed for the door but turned back from the threshold and pointed her wand at a broken rocking chair; it morphed into a single bed with soft, sumptuous pillows and a thick duvet.

"Your wand is on the rug. Disillusion yourself and get some rest. I think it's about time you had a moment to relax. I'll ward the shack. No one will come looking."

She took a deep breath, drawing her courage to say her next words. "In case I don't see you again; I know you're likely to vanish. I want… I want to say… thank you, for all you've done. Thank you for risking your life, thank you for doing so every day, thank you for protecting Harry even though you had so many reasons not to want to. There are so many things I want to thank you for, that I need to thank you for and hope that we will meet again and you give me the chance. I find myself wanting to hug you, Professor. Should I think better of it, sir?"

Snape stared at the young witch before him, trying to mask his shock. She was barely eighteen years old, forced to mature beyond her years, forced to fight in a war that should not have been hers to fight, compelled by her compassion and courage to save his blackened soul and _she_ was thanking _him_. The least he could do was submit to her wish for a hug; she'd saved his life; reputation be damned; he was almost a dead man five minutes ago, what did he need a reputation for now.

"Very well, Miss Granger. But make it quick, the battle is not yet won; you have work to do." he said in his usual drawl, he still couldn't allow her too much satisfaction in her achievements; he'd never hear the end of it.

Hermione was not nearly as successful as Snape at hiding her shock at his agreement. She moved toward him slowly and he stood as she approached. _Oh Merlin, I'm going to hug Professor Snape._ Her stomach curled into knots that grew increasingly tighter as she reached him… _Come on Hermione, it's only a hug and he said it's ok. You're a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, you can do this. If you can survive a Bellatrix LeStrange torture session, you can hug the man whose life you just saved._ She was very good at internal pep-talks and thankfully, this one worked.

She threw her arms around his waist - she'd have gone for the neck but worried herself that it might still be a bit delicate – and squeezed, burying into his chest. "Thank you, Professor, thank you for everything. It's time to let go of the past now, you are a good man. Everything you have done has been with good reason and so I want you to know, I want you to always know, that you are forgiven. I may not be able to convince everyone to feel the same way but, by Merlin, I'm going to try."

Hermione poured her whole heart into that hug; she filled it with reverence, respect, and apologies; she made it an embrace of acceptance and gratitude and forgiveness; feeling for the first time since she uncovered the secrets he kept hidden so deeply, that he was more than the labels she had always put on him – Professor, Death Eater, Order Member, cruel, greasy haired git – he was a man; a man like no other, a man who walked an impossible path and shouldered a burden so great, it was a miracle he hadn't crumbled beneath the weight of it. She held onto him for as long as she could, fearing that if she let go, he would flee and didn't know if she could bear that. In that still and silent moment, she let the rest of the world, the war, her friends, every other thing that plagued her mind; she let it all go and held onto the man in her arms. The man she loved.

Snape really didn't know what to do with her declaration, her forgiveness or the barrage of feelings rolling off of this little witch, there was an emotional tsunami hitting him as she held onto him and she was squeezing his middle so tight his ribs ached. He realised, though his magic might not be quite back up to scratch yet, he had beyond mastered Legillemency; it had surpassed mastery in the last decade, had become more of a sixth sense; and what it sensed from Hermione Granger was… love. He felt a tear leave one eye and raised a hand to wipe it away, placing the other, tentatively, on her shoulder and leaning down to kiss her hair. "I appreciate that, Miss Granger."

She released him then and took three steps back to look him over. "How do you feel, Professor? Did the phoenix tears heal you completely? Are you ok?"

"I will survive. Thanks to you. Now, run a long and be the wisdom behind our dunderheaded saviour," his lips quirked up as if to make his infamous sneering smirk but it didn't quite reach the full effect.

She smiled; a full, brilliant smile that seemed to warm his whole body. "Yes, sir."

With that she left the Shrieking Shack and headed back to Hogwarts.

**A/N:**

**I have definite plans for certain aspects of this little tale, the main one being that our heroes end up working together; what I cannot seem to decide on is where? So, I am going to do as Rita Skeeter would do and ask you… my rabid readers **

**Hermione gets Snape his job back at Hogwarts and she also joins the staff**

**Unable to find work due to his past and the wizarding world unwilling to forgive, Snape starts his own potions store in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade; offers Hermione a weekend job when she returns to Hogwarts for her NEWTS .**

**Please make your suggestions in the reviews/comments section below or on my new facebook group for fans of this story: ** groups/681753442260963/**.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Avenging Angel

**A/N: I am completely sure that everyone wants me to get to the interactions between our favourite dark potions master and his golden girl but this chapter is entirely necessary in the interim, I assure you. I have some very fun ideas of where this story is heading and I will give you the mildest of infuriating cryptic clues of one of my more brilliant ideas (and that is saying something – lol, couldn't resist), and here it is: 'Of Sneers and Stalking in Billowing Robes'.**

Chapter 2 – Avenging Angel

Alone in the Shrieking Shack, Snape begrudgingly chooses to do as his bossy little witch of a former-student suggested. _When did she get so… what? What is she? _He moves the items she gifted to the end of the bed before turning back to the dusty, shredded rug and picking up his wand. _How on earth am I alive right now?_ He knew the answer of course, he'd witnessed it; Hermione's spells hadn't removed his awareness of what was happening around him, just his ability to effect the outcome. _Well, there's_ _nothing new in that… _he thought, bitterly, _it's how I've lived the last twenty years_.

He sat on the edge of the transfigured bed and unscrewed the cap from the bottle of water. Lifting it to his lips, he drank deeply. His eyes closed in pleasure at the sensations that that water seemed to bring to his tired and depleted self. Warmth spread through him; it curled through his veins, whispered into his bones and caressed his very soul. Aches and pains he had forgotten were even there, he'd lived with them for so long, were the first think he noticed fade into non-existence - the price of years playing spy for two warring masters had taken its toll on him and he felt the years of his burdens evaporate into nothingness. He straightened his back where he sat and to his surprise, that dull ache at his lumber, the persistent twinge in his shoulder blades was gone. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding and his shoulders slumped with ease as they had been unable to do in two decades, he was relaxed.

A sudden prickle of ancient magic danced across his brain making him tense a little in apprehension. _Am I discovered? Has the Riddle read Miss Granger's mind and come back to kill me again? _ The prickling sensation travelled from his brain then; it skipped along every nerve ending and cell he possessed; it felt like a tickle and an itch at the same time as his frayed nerve endings from too many 'Dark Lord _crucio's'_ shed their damage and plumped themselves back to full health, restoring him further. He relaxed again.

As the magic of the Avalonian water worked on Severus, he felt himself drift into sleep; a sleep so sound he would not wake for three days. And, when he did wake, he would hardly recognise, if at all, the man who would stare back at him in a mirror.

While a destined battle raged between The Boy Who Lived and He Who Must Not Be Named; while The Order of the Phoenix fought and felled the Death Eaters, the bravest man to have ever walked the wizarding world, the Slytherin man who had straddled both sides of the darkest war in history, lay in a broken shack, a mere mile from the carnage, being rewarded for his years of courage, his heartbreak, his sacrifice and the many burdens he had endured.

Hermione fled down the passageway from the Shrieking Shack; hesitating at the entrance to peer at the castle and grounds of Hogwarts from the Whomping Willow. In truth, she was waiting for something she knew was coming, a particular explosion on the Astronomy Tower… _ah, there it is. That's my cue._

That was the explosion that disabled the anti-apparition ward; she'd discovered that is was tied to the placement of certain stars and how the shone through the 3 feet of diamond shaped moonstone that was the decorated the tower. Now she could apparate straight to Fred, knowing Harry would still be in the pensieve with Ron, learning his unfortunate fate.

She knew she had to be quick; she had six minutes until Fred was due to be killed by Dolohov, then only another twenty-three minutes until he got to Remus. She thought swiftly over her advanced apparition research, she'd only practiced once but it had worked; she had learned that apparition could be achieved by thinking of the person you needed to reach rather than the destination. It wasn't widely known, thank Merlin, but it was the quickest, even if it was probably the most dangerous, way to achieve her goals. She focused her mind on an image of Fred Weasley and let her feelings of friendship and affection for him bubble into her mind, then turned on the spot and disappeared from the Shrieking Shack with the tell-tale pop of disapparating.

Landing with a shudder four feet away from the duelling forms of Fred Weasley and Antonin Dolohov, she ducked behind a tapestry of Godric Gryffindor; it wouldn't do to get caught in the cross-fire. Fred was holding his own against Dolohov but she knew she only had about two minutes until his _protego_ shield would falter; she gripped her wand more securely and discreetly aimed it at Dolohov from her hiding place. She checked her watch and counted down until she knew her moment would come. As she waited, she let her hatred for the Russian Death Eater course through her veins like cold fire…

Ten... nine…, her hair crackled with fury.

Eight… seven… six…, she focused her intent.

Five…, four…, she felt her magic surge with loathing.

Three…, two… one…

"_Avada Kedavra"._

Hermione watched as her curse hit its target square in the jaw, as Dolohov's body froze for a few seconds, which felt like hours before falling to the floor, lifeless.

She stepped from behind the tapestry, bent down briefly to relieve the lifeless form of his weapon, just in case and took a much needed deep breath. Then, she turned to Fred. He looked comically stunned, eyes wide, jaw practically on the floor; she smiled, maybe even as brilliantly as she had for Snape and ran at him. Her arms flung themselves around his neck and her tears fell; the happiest of tears that she had been in time, that she had saved his life, that she had kept the Weasley's, her second family, whole. His arms wrapped around her waist and he kissed her forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Apparate home. Now. The wards are down, you can leave right now. You've done your bit and I won't have you wasting my efforts to save you." She barely recognised her own voice as it commanded Fred with all the authority of Minerva McGonagall.

"But…" Fred started to protest. Hermione interrupted.

"Go. I'll send the others as I can. Get a cuppa on. Trust me, I've got this." Again, she marvelled in the confidence of her own voice. She knew her plans were sound but she still felt nervous. Those nerves just weren't showing in her voice.

"You are a-maz-ing. You know that?" Fred stated in awe before turning on the spot and twisting himself toward the Burrow.

_Next. _Hermione thought as she apparated herself to the first floor.

The one-witch rampage of her avenging angel persona, powered through the castle on the secret mission she had been planning for almost two years, since her first vision. She flung curse after curse at every death eater she found, collecting their wands as she went; she used every spell in her arsenal spiralling her way, floor after floor to the seventh and the Room of Requirement.

She had realised in her time of reading Hogwarts: A History ten thousand or so times that the Room of Requirement has the heart of the castle; everything Hogwarts should be, a haven… of safety and learning and magic. Her visions hadn't shown her Crabbe's fiendfyre in the magical room and so this detour was not a part of her mission but as she heard the castle creak, moan and rumble around her, she knew it was necessary. She stood facing the expanse of cold stone, she closed and thought with all her heart… _I need to heal the castle, I need fix you._

When she opened her eyes, a pair of charred doors met her vision, practically just ash, held in place only by the goblin made wrought iron bars that decorated them. From her beaded bag, she accio'd a second bottle of water and stepped forward as she unscrewed the cap. Taking a steady breath, she poured a quarter of the contents onto the door and stepped back. The door restored magnificently before her and she stepped forward and kissed it. _I'm not giving this castle up for anything, especially not that twisted bastard. Now_, she thought, as if speaking directly to the castle,_ use the magic in this water to spread through your walls, to flow along your floors, to fortify the battlements, to be unstoppable. I need you with Hogwarts; I need you with me. And don't let this water touch Riddle… I can't afford for him to be in any way restored. _

As she finished her pep talk to Hogwarts, she felt something shift in the magic around her; it strengthened, it braced itself; the castle stopped breaking, stopped creaking and without warning, without knowing what was about to happen, which felt quite the novelty these days, those magnificent restored doors opened wide and Hermione was magically swept within.

She stood in a round room, with four thrones on a stage ahead of her; each throne was filled with an unbelievably recognisable person; although, she had no idea how they were present or what had called them to the present. Before her sat the Kings and Queens of Hogwarts, the Founders: Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff.

Hermione gasped at the sight. All thoughts left her for what felt like hours but then bombarded her with a feeling of dread. Was she in trouble? Was Hogwarts somehow mad at her? She did the only thing she could think of and bowed her head; respect seeming the most appropriate response to display. She heard one of the founders moving and she flittered her eyes up to see through her lashes… Godric Gryffindor was striding towards her… strong, sure strides. _Like Snape._

He stopped when he approached her and spoke.

"Look at me, my dear. Godric Gryffindor," he unnecessarily introduced himself as he reached for her hand. He kissed her knuckles and continued. "Pleased to meet you, sweet girl."

"I am quite sure you are feeling confused, Miss Granger." Added Salazar Slytherin as he joined Godric.

"Yes, sir" she nodded.

"Your actions tonight, sweet girl, have summoned all of us back to these hallowed halls. You have shown the bravery of a true Gryffindor warrior Miss Granger." Began the explanation from Godric as the Hogwarts Queens approached their colleagues.

"And your stealth, discretion and cunning rival even my own, young lady." Salazar continued.

"That mind of yours, Miss Granger… to have planned and organised, researched and implemented for so long. You make me proud of what this school, we created so many centuries ago, can accomplish. Well done." Rowena Ravenclaw complimented before stepping forward to hug the almost tearful young witch before her.

"And when the fruits of our hard work and labour were falling apart before you, you rallied your spirits and saved our precious castle. Your loyalty to Hogwarts knows no bounds, my dear. Worthy of any Hufflepuff." Helga pulled Hermione into a tight embrace.

"Young Mr. Potter is the saviour of the wizarding world to be sure; Miss Granger but you are saviour of Hogwarts. Much like loyalty to Albus Dumbledore, called Fawkes to Salazar's sanctuary in your second year; loyalty to the school itself, especially in times of great need, calls us to your aid. If it was not for that wonderful elixir from Avalon, we would not be corporeal but even in unknowingly summoning us, you are beyond magnificent, my dear" Godric finally finished their explanation.

Overwhelmed, the tears fell from her.

The Founders waited, patiently as Hermione's tears finally calmed into sniffles and she looked up.

"You are the perfect combination of all of our strengths Miss. Granger and as such, you have the power to end this war and aid Mr. Potter in what he must do."

Hermione's head snapped up at that.

"What do I have to do?" she said, without any hesitation or fear.

"That reaction, right there," Godric said to the other founders, "That is why this woman is in my house."

Salazar sneered, _so that's where it started_; Helga smiled, _of course_; and Rowena thinned her lips and looked a little jealous, _like Minerva when Slytherin win a Quidditch match_.

"Now, down to business young lady. The four of us you see before you, we are technically spirits; as such, we can possess your spirit and enhance your powers. Whilst you are housing us, no spell, charm or curse can touch you; you will be, for the time it takes to complete this task, invincible, Miss Granger." Salazar explained, excitedly.

"What are we going to do, exactly?"

"The side effects of our presence mean that the castle will continue to restore as you, we walk by. We our powered by the magics of Avalon thanks to your intelligence and ingenuity. We, and so you while we are possessing you have all the magic of Avalon coursing through you." Rowena added.

"My dear, you'll know exactly what to do with our powers. We cannot choose how you use this gift; the choice has to be yours. But know this, Hermione Jean Granger; you have united us once more in comradery. Your bravery, intelligence, ambition and loyalty are what will save Hogwarts and give Mr. Potter the freedom to do what must be done." Salazar instructed.

After several moments of thought, Hermione turned to Salazar and nodded. He stepped forward and merged into her skin without a word.

She turned to Helga next, and nodded again. The Matriarch of Hufflepuff kissed her cheek and seeped into Hermione.

When she turned to Rowena, the original Ravenclaw had a tear in her eye and said. "Brightest witch of her age; as if that could do you justice. You are the brightest witch of any age, Hermione." She stepped into Hermione's person and felt pride wash over her.

Finally she turned to Godric Gryffindor. "I couldn't be prouder, angel. A true Gryffindor. My Avenging Angel for all the wrongs that have taken place over the last thirty year. You have my gratitude, Hermione."

She nodded and he stepped forward, placing a kiss to her cheek before passing into her person.

"Right. Let's go save us a school!" Hermione said loudly and felt four streams of magic surge through her in agreement.

Hermione Granger, with the force of the Founders coursing through her was magnificent. Walls rebuilt in her wake, fires were doused, death eaters, werewolves and all manner of dark forces fell at her feet, immobilised and incarcerated in ropes; wand upon wand flew at her as she walked with determined purpose to the Great Hall.

At the grand double doors, she clicked her fingers with a flourish and the entrance way was bared before her. She was teeming with raw power, her chestnut curls glowed with magic and she felt the Founders devastation at the tragedies that had befell their precious creation. It was all she needed, she drew their energies into her own magic; felt every molecule of power ripple with anticipation through her whole body, let it build and swirl and ascend until it reached a fever pitch of incomprehensible force and then just as it was about to erupt from her unbidden, she released it with true and meaningful intent to decimate the darkness from the castle.

Every death eater and dark lord sympathiser fell to ground; unconscious.

She snapped her fingers and every fallen wand was banished.

She saw Neville and new he was destined to destroy Nagini; she wanted to do it herself, to avenge Snape; but this was Neville's destiny. She held out her hand to him and he approached her, looking nervous.

"Neville, hold my hand." He did so and she squeezed. "I need you to do something for me, for Harry, for Dumbledore. Find Nagini and kill her. I know you can do it Neville. You are as strong and courageous as any other Gryffindor. You'd have to be, to stand up to me in our first year. This will help you…" the hilt of a sword materialised between their clasped hands. "Take it. I have put a permanent protego on your skin, imbibed with inoculation for any venom. You're safe, Neville. We're gonna get him. Go! And be careful."

Neville hugged her before backing away.

Hermione turned to the room at large: she saw the Weasley's, decidedly care-worn and ragged but all alive; Minerva, Filius, Horace, were tending to the wounded and transporting them to a heavily warded Poppy Pomfrey in the hospital wing. She did another quick scan and saw Remus hugging Tonks by an obliterated staff table.

Movement outside, made her remember her visions and what was about to happen. Harry!

She beckoned for Neville to follow her and apparated into the courtyard. She knew that's where Voldermort was leading Hagrid, holding an 'apparently' dead Harry. She had to play this carefully.

"I can hold my abomination of a descendant in stasis while the snake is destroyed. He will not know I am with you, he will not expect my power." She heard Salazar's voice in her head.

Hermione appeared ten feet from where Voldermort, Hagrid and the Malfoys entered the courtyard.

Voldermort spotted her and let out a high-pitched, shrieking laugh. Cold and mirthless.

"See here, little _Mudblood_. Your beloved saviour is dead. At my wand. And now, Miss Granger, you shall join him" the elder wand was pointed at her… "_Avada Ke-" _Hermione smiled. Salazar's magic rushed through her right hand and she felt herself raise it towards the megalomaniac in front of her and hold him silent and stationary.

"Neville you're up."

The nervous Gryffindor ran at the snake, sword held high and swung it with all his might. The sword sliced through the enchanted protection that encapsulated his prey and continued slicing swiftly through the Nagini's neck.

The snake evaporated in wisps of black smoke and Neville fell to his knees.

Hermione moved him back into the castle, wandlessly. She had to keep him safe and turned to Hagrid.

"Harry! Harry! Wake up. It's time."

She didn't know how aware, Voldermort was through this but guessing he was, she kept one eye on him at all times.

Harry jumped out of Hagrid's arms and hugged Hermione. "How did you know? How could you know?

"No time to explain. Don't know how long he's held. Ready for the fight of your life, Harry?"

Harry gulped, but nodded.

"Here, use my wand; I don't need it for a while." She handed over the thin piece of vine to her best friend and directed him a few feet away. "Ready?" she asked when he was far enough away.

She had a sudden urge; she couldn't help it. She really just had to it.

She stood directly in front of Tom Riddle, moved her left foot back to steady herself, repeated the movement with her right fist and wham! Hermione Granger landed her right hook directly at Voldermort's jaw.

"He's all your Harry." She called to her best friend as she stepped out of the firing line to watch.

The perfectly executed right hook had dislodged the stasis charm that held the Dark Lord in place and as he returned his back to face crowd, he hissed and glowered and was hit, unawares by a very well placed _expelliarmus._ Followed by every member of the Order of the Phoenix, including Fred Weasley who had returned, twenty three cries of _Avada Kedavra._

Voldermort fell.

Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him.

"Snape's alive. I have to go," she whispered in her best friend's ear.

"Go!"

Bound to Hogwarts, she felt the Founders leave her as she disapparated.

**A/N: Well, there we are. My take on how Hermione did most of the work… it's important for later. Adding the Founders was something I planned for another story but I like adding it here and it worked so well. Hope you all liked it. If you'd like them to show up again later, let me know and I can work them in somewhere. **

**Please review, I appreciate feedback and it inspires me to write more.**


	3. Chapter 3 - Raison D'Etre

Chapter 3 – Raison D'etre

Tired, sweating and battle fresh, Hermione left Harry and the Minister, along with the rest of Order to tend the injured, round up the fallen Death Eaters and try to fix the mess that was Hogwarts.

She had more important things to attend to…

Hermione strode out of the Great Hall with purpose; reminding herself of Snape with the determination in her stride, _if I was wearing robes, they would be billowing_; she smiled to herself at the comparison and wondered if the man himself would agree. _Maybe I'll show him the memory._

She looked for a deserted spot: an alcove, an abandoned corridor, anything; it wouldn't do to let anyone see that the anti-apparition wards were disabled, not with so many Death Eaters still present. It took her almost fifteen minutes of dodging and ducking various obstacles in her way as she traversed the ground floor – not one, not two, not three but four house elves popped in front of her during that short span of time to ask if she needed anything; blasted little things; _I can almost sympathise with Lucius Malfoy's treatment of Dobby; the little fuckers never leave you alone, _a pang of guilt washed through her when she realised her own thoughts, "sorry Dobby," she muttered.

She had ducked behind one of the winged boar statues to avoid a fifth house elf; _this is trickier than the bloody battle_. Hermione sighed from her hiding place and waited for the elf – Winky, by the looks of her stumbling – to disappear.

"_My dear, I shall forgive this momentary lapse of forgetfulness considering your urgency to reach Professor Snape, not to mention what you've just been through but the Transfiguration classroom is deserted and only thirty metres from your current location."_ Rowena Ravenclaw's voice rang softly in Hermione's head.

Hermione peeked around the stone back of the winged boar to check she was alone; Winky had vanished and she saw no one else but…

"_Homenum revelio"_, she cast the spell to only extend to the confines of the corridor she was in; a single, small, red ball of light popped out of her wand and circled the tip before dissipating. She was alone.

_I might as well just disapparate from here._

"_I wouldn't do that if I were you, Miss Granger. Fenrir Greyback is heading this way. Make your way to the Transfiguration classroom, girl." _The slightly patronising drawl of Salazar Slytherin caught her inner ear. While she appreciated the warning, she could practically hear the sneer. _And I get called a bloody know-it-all._

She disillusioned herself and ran.

"_You have done wonderfully, sweetheart. Now, go take care of your man."_ Helga cooed as Hermione reached Minerva McGonagall's classroom.

'_My man? He's not my man!'_ Even in Hermione's head, the protest sounded feeble but she wasn't quite ready to admit _all_ of her motivations for saving the dour bat of the dungeons.

She turned the handle on the door - which in her fifth year she had morphed into an archway and back again for her O.W.L.S. practice – and stepped inside, slammed the door shut and erected her strongest anti-werewolf ward; powered by the founders, the door glowed gold. Hermione hated that such wards were even allowed but she was grateful for it in that moment.

"_Now, now, Miss Granger; we all know as well as you do that Severus Snape is possibly the only wizard worthy of affections from a witch such as yourself. I would have qualified too of course, if it were not for my centuries old demise."_ Godric sounded very sure of himself as he flirted and Hermione giggled.

"_Godric, behave"_ chastised Rowena and Helga unanimously. _"Honestly, it's like he's still fifteen years old sometimes."_ Rowena continued.

'_I'm flattered, sir.' _Hermione thought to the dashing patriarch of her Hogwarts House to which Salazar responded with a scoff. The witches in Hermione's head chose to ignore their male companions and Hermione heard Rowena's voice continue sternly in her mind…

"_Now, as powerful as we are, even in this form, we are unable to breach the boundaries of Hogwarts, my dear; our existence on this plane is bound to the castle and therefore, once you disapparate, you leave us behind."_

"_I understand."_ Hermione nodded, but proceeded to speak aloud. "It has been an honour and a privilege to have you with me. I shall think of you all often, especially when I am here. And thank you." It felt silly hearing herself address an empty classroom but she owed them her vocal gratitude and praise.

"_We are always here, Miss Granger. The walls, the grounds, each room, each corridor; every statue, doorway and turret has our essence, our magic weaved into it. Even Rubeus's hut was created by our magic. Never fear that we do not watch over our little corner of the magical world, sweet girl. And you are our defender. It is we, who owe you thanks, Hermione Granger. Go tend to your patient, my dear, and take with you our love, gratitude and respect."_ Salazar finished.

There were no more words to be said. Hermione was overwhelmed; the Founders of Hogwarts, the greatest witches and wizards who ever lived – except perhaps, Merlin - those who ensured her a magical education centuries before she was born, those who provided her a location to find best friends, the people responsible for recognising her bravery and intelligence, her ambition and her loyalty; they were praising her mission, urging her forward. No matter what anyone else said about her saving Severus Snape, she no longer cared; she had the backing of Hogwarts royalty and nothing, in her mind, came as a higher authority.

Smiling widely, Hermione closed her eyes, pictured very clearly in her mind the Shrieking Shack and turned into the void between herself and her quarry.

When Hermione cracked into existence, three feet outside the Shrieking Shack, outside her own wards, she stumbled the landing, falling flat on her arse. _I'm so glad the Founders did not witness that; talk about embarrassing. _In truth, the disapparition away from them had left her somewhat light-headed and she'd struggled to hold onto her destination in her mind and keep from splinching herself.

Head in her hands at the mortification of still not being able to apparate smoothly, she did not see the slightly hunched woman in a blood-red velvet cloak approach, apparating into a hastened stride without stopping; slowing only as she reached the young witch whose head hung low. Hermione was contemplating her next move; what she would need to do, and what she would need to say to Severus Snape.

The first hint of the stranger's presence was when Hermione saw worn dragon-hide boots standing just before her. Hermione froze. _Just a minute to myself, is that really too much to ask?_

The stranger cleared her throat.

"No it isn't. Not too much to ask at all."

"Legillemency? Really? That's very rude to perform on someone you don't know. It's bad enough when it's someone you do know." The young witch groused.

"I did not use Legillemency; nasty, intrusive vein of magic that it is. I used a memory; my memory. And believe me when I say, I do know you. Very well, in fact." The stranger's tone was even but friendly, genuine and in a way Hermione couldn't place, familiar.

She looked up to meet the eyes of… "OH. MY. GOD."

Relief flooded the not-so-much-a-stranger's face, and voice.

"I see you recognise me. Good. That saves at least thirty minutes of trying to convince you who I am. Even with your brilliant mind as it is, I was not looking forward to that."

"How are you here?" Hermione asked quietly.

"_Muffliato"_ the all too familiar now, voice whispered wandlesslessly. "I am here because in the future you work with that brilliant, pig-headedly stubborn, gorgeous man in there," she gestured to the shack, "…and successfully recreate a much improved version of the time-turner. It now works similarly to apparition. For mere hours of time travel it works the same way but Severus' contribution is a set of potions to increase each turn to represent a day, week, month or year. An hour ago, I was in the year 2019."

Hermione's eyes widened but she was still feeling very sceptical and not willing to give an inch, which might allow this person to take a mile.

"That is an amazing story. I do not quite believe you though. If you really are me from the future then you will understand my scepticism after what I have just been through."

"Of course. I can offer you proof."

Reluctantly, young Hermione nodded.

"The first proof I have is a spell. It's actually been around since the Founders day; it may actually have been one of Salazar's; he did enjoy playing with timelines. It was actually he who sent me back to this spot. After bringing them back on this day, they never descend back into spirit form. I won't tell you too much about that; you need to enjoy the surprises as they happen for you." Older Hermione smiled at her former self knowingly and continued. "The spell is to prove that a wand is meeting itself at a different point in its own timeline. And to prove the spell is genuine and does as I say it will, you can witness my second piece of proof…"

21st century Hermione reached into her cloak…

Finally, remembering why she was here, Hermione cleared her throat and stood; speaking for the first time in this odd exchange with determination and purpose: "I really don't have time for all this. I need to get to Snape. I said I'd be there as soon as the battle was over."

"Oh," the older witch laughed, "He'll be out for days yet. Complete exhaustion and magical depletion take their toll. He will need you, a lot, but we have time." The older witch said, seemingly amused and perhaps a little nostalgic, as she retrieved from her cloak an almost grey, very thread-bare, beaded bag, with at least half of the beads missing.

Hermione gasped.

"Ok. Fine," the young witch said, more resigned, more mollified by the sight of her aged and dilapidated extended handbag. Still though, she let out an exasperated sigh at being defeated.

"Oh my, I forgot how stubborn I used to be. I see you recognise the bag; it has just always held too many memories for me to give up for something new." Definite nostalgia this time.

"I am not stubborn. I'm just usually right. What is this proof about the spell to do with a wand timeline?" impatience was starting to show through; she _really_ wanted to get to Snape.

"Ah, there is that impatience I never seem to lose. It's good to remember I was always blessed with that." She laughed. "Ok, I just need a few more seconds."

The thirty-something witch pulled her wand from the bun of slightly greying chestnut curls perched on top of her head and pointed it at the bag, summoning a very ancient, leather bound book.

Hermione gasped when she saw the wand of her future self. It was definitely the same length of vine; it looked a little longer and very well used but she recognised the small knot in the wood, 4 inches from the base. Just below the knot, the base was wrapped in gold, with three animals cut into the metal, making it look like a stencil… a lion, _obviously_; an otter _makes sense_; and a doe? _Hmmm…_

"There is no need to look so shocked; I know you haven't come to the realisation yet but it won't take too long. Especially now you've seen it confirmed on your wand. The other decorations, well, more surprises for you." She said with a chuckle, flipping through the pages of the summoned book. "This is the diary of Salazar Slytherin from the year before Hogwarts was born. And here," she pointed, "…here is the spell you are going to perform."

Hermione looked at the offered page where the slightly aged finger of the older witch's left hand was pointing. _No wedding ring_, she thought sadly and her face dropped providing evidence of her thoughts before her eyes flicked back to the spell.

"That is the 'why' of my being here, but we'll get to that soon enough. Do you understand the spell?"

Hermione nodded.

"Ok. Well then…" Thirty-something Hermione raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Please don't do that. I don't like my face morphing into a Snape-gesture. It's creepy."

Thirty-something Hermione laughed whole heartedly; "You'll get used to it." She said very matter-of-factly as she held out her wand.

Hermione held up her wand and aimed it and its aged and adorned future; the two points met and a golden glow emanated from the spot between them.

"Say the spell."

"_Temporum Paradoxica"_ the young witch breathed.

"Let it go." Thirty-something Hermione said as she released her own wand.

Hermione uncurled her fingers from her own wand and watched with wonder as it stayed in the air; rising in fact to meet the other.

The effect was amazing. The golden glow shifted, expanding to encompass both wands, it was beautiful magic. Both wands suddenly moved in unison, emulating the first three spells they had ever produced; _probably at Ollivander's hand_, Hermione thought. Each spell released from the wands was made of thick blue smoke, sparkling with bronze flecks; the spells of a Ravenclaw. The next spell released was shockingly different, a pure white smoke, formless but flecked with iridescent light and Hermione realised it was from the day her wand chose her, not technically a spell, just a burst of energy. The next ten spells were also of white smoke and iridescent light. Hermione remembered reading _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_, and practicing. The next, and last white smoke spell made the young witch burst into tears at the memory; the day she met Harry Potter on the Hogwarts Express, the day she fixed his glasses with _'occulus repairo'_.

From there, the wand glow showed every spell in a rich red, pluming smoke, glittering with golden flecks; it cycled for about fifteen minutes through all the spells Hermione had ever cast; the red smoke turning to dark burgundy at the darker spells that she had needed to use throughout the war. When the cycle reached her latest spell, this spell, Hermione's wand ceased moving but remained in the glow as the other continued.

The gold laden wand kept showing spells for forty more minutes and its owner watched for the tell-tale smoke of the spell she cast before her 't'apparation' (time apparition) into the past– an _'expelliarmus'_. It was her time turner, her life and her mistake from the past that she was correcting but Severus had not agreed with the decision of messing with his past too and she had had to use the disarming spell. She was doing this for his own damn good.

The smoky _Expelliarmus_ finally showed itself, followed by her _Muffliato_ and the _Accio_ to retrieve Salazar's journal from her bag. As the last smoky spell dissipated, both wands drifted back to their owners and the golden glow faded away.

The two witches stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other.

"I have one more piece of evidence if you would like it?" the older witch offered carefully.

Hermione trusted the other witch was her future self but was unwilling to turn down more proof, just to be sure. "Please."

Thirty-something Hermione opened her cloak, reached to her waistband and clutched the silk of her emerald blouse, pulling it free of her black jeans. Lifting it slowly towards her chest, she revealed to her younger self the purple star-burst scarring of Dolohov's curse from the battle with Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries.

Hermione nodded again and the older woman covered midriff. "I believe you."

"Good. Perhaps we should sit. I know this is a lot to take in but there's more."

"More?" Hermione asked incredulously, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline.

"Yes, more. The reason I'm here in fact." The older witch said as she sat on the grasses and gestured for her younger self to join her.

"Oh right. Of course." Hermione sat, tentatively and smiled a little.

"Well now, where to begin…"

"At the beginning?"

"You sound like Severus"

"I had a good teacher for that" she chuckled.

"Quite. Okay, the beginning. I'm not going to pull my punches with this, there's no point; you need to be told straight. So, here goes… we, more specifically me right now, are in love with Severus Snape."

"What?" _I think my eyebrows are staying in my hairline for this whole conversation._

"I see you are not quite convinced. At least, not on the surface." She gave the younger witch a knowing smile. "In hindsight, which is what I have now, I know I was already in love with Severus by the age you are now. It is what prompted me – us – to save him. I remember trying to justify it in so many other ways, which I know you will do for some time still, even with this conversation; I know my own mind."

"This is crazy."

"Please let me continue…"

Hermione nodded, again.

"It has taken twenty years for Severus to allow me into his life romantically, to allow himself to act on his own love for me, to finally get over his self-loathing and guilt; but since he did, we have become inseparable. The perfect yin and yang, we challenge each other intellectually, make love with the wildest abandon, as if we were both still teenagers and we are in the deepest of loves that even Albus Dumbledore would be unable to describe."

"Why so long?" Hermione asked. She didn't quite believe what she was being told but she was curious.

"I honestly would have been content to stay the way we are; even after all the years we missed by avoiding our love for each other. It has made me cherish what we have now so much more."

"But…?" Hermione encouraged.

"But… there is still such sadness in him; something I have been unable to put my finger on, unable to heal. We have worked together closely for years but we only began our courtship eleven months ago. The thing is last week, I finally found out why he put his feelings off for so long, why he still struggles to feel like I will love him eternally. We had Lucius and Draco to the house for dinner…"

Hermione scoffed.

"You actually become quite good friends but I'll let that develop without giving you future knowledge; it's too much fun for you to know what's coming.

Anyway, after dinner, Draco and I stayed in the living room to go over his latest research while Severus took Lucius into the kitchen for cigars and firewhiskey. After half an hour or so, Draco and I were feeling the need for a drink too so I went to pilfer the bottle from them."

She paused, her eyes welling up a little with tears before she took a deep breath and continued.

"I heard them talking about our relationship and I really hadn't meant to eaves drop but he gets so closed off about his feelings and I really was just after a little insight. After a minute or so I heard Severus say it… the reason he had kept himself away from me so long was that he couldn't give me children."

Hermione gasped, and watched herself from twenty years in the future nod as though she understood that gasp completely before continuing.

"I was beside myself. I should've known from his past, from what he's been doing for the last twenty years in your time, he's a selfless bastard, never putting himself first. Naturally, I confronted him later; how could I not. I wanted to reassure him that he was more important to me than having children; as long as I have him, my life is enough. He told me what happened, eventually; turns out it was a curse thrown at him from an attack years ago; about three years ahead of your time now, when you start working together. It attacked his fertility; the attacker shouting out something along the lines of 'So there's never another greasy haired git in the world'. We've been fighting ever since; I tried to convince him I was happy with just the two of us; I tried to assuage his guilt but he knows me, better than anyone. He knows how desperately I want children, and he does too. All those years teaching, he never got to teach one of his own and it breaks him apart. After everything he's done, everything he's been through, he deserves the best of everything; he deserves anything and everything he wants."

"Oh, Severus" Hermione said, tears in her eyes. "What can I do? I didn't save him just so he can live a life of regret and sadness. I have to fix this."

"I was hoping you would say that. Severus is a proud man and will not give in easily. This is going to sound very sneaky and very underhanded; think of it this way, Severus is a Slytherin, he'd appreciate it if you were doing it to someone else. This is necessary; it is also extreme but know that it is for Severus' own good; he needs you. Do not give up; do not let him push you away. He will try, repeatedly, and with all his usual scorn and venom. You cannot give in to his temper and self-loathing; show him that you are going to be there for him no matter what. As for the attack, I never got a specific name from him of the attacker but he did let it slip it was a Weasley."

Hermione went deathly white at that.

"The easiest way to begin, other than nursing him through these next few weeks and getting his name cleared is going to be to seduce him. I know, I know, it sounds terrifying at the moment but trust me it will be the most thrilling part of the rest of your life, being with him. Get closer to him over the next year or so; start with small flirtations, so he knows you're at least interested but give him enough time so he doesn't feel like a cradle snatcher because even in twenty years from now, that joke still bothers him. As I said, he will keep pushing you away but that is a defence mechanism and it can be overcome with desire.

As for children, that is up to you to decide with Severus once you get a relationship started, but know it is one of his deepest secrets, his desperate wish to be a father; guard it closely, even from him until he shares it. He cannot know I was here."

"Are you staying for a while or are you going back? I have so many questions."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter with time travel but I should go. You have all the relevant information and I don't want to risk changing anything in a negative way. Trust yourself and trust him to come through, eventually. Love him, love him for the man he is and the man he wants to be, make him that man and let him love you; make him your raison d'etre – you always did want one, right? He will be possessive, annoyingly so, which you will fight against because it drives you insane but it's just his way; let him love you and you will be happy for the rest of your life."

Hermione nodded.

They stood and embraced.

"Thank you" Hermione said as she watched the older witch fish a time turner from her neckline before accio'ing a vial of orange potion. She pulled the dropper from the vial and let one drop fall onto the egg-timer pendant necklace. Returning the vial, she held the pendant and looked at her younger self.

"There is no one else I could ever trust with this kind of knowledge. Occlude it so he doesn't find it. Good luck and goodbye."

She turned into the void of time and vanished back to 2019.

Hermione, alone once more and with a host of new information to process, straightened her shoulders, turned to face the Shrieking Shack and marched toward the love of her life, whether he likes it or not.

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm mean. I've delayed them getting together again but this little bit of story fell into my mind and I loved it. I'm very wary of doing time turner stories, especially sending Hermione to the past but this felt much more acceptable to me. I promise Hermione makes it to the shack eventually.**

**Now, I know exactly how I'm going to make things develop between our lovebirds but at this point in the story, Hermione doesn't and she's going to wrack her brains for ways to seduce the Bat of the Dungeon. What I would like from you, my rabid readers, is suggestions on what she might try. To not drag the story out too long, I will use my favourite two suggestions as failing attempts before the thing she does for the plot. Suggestions in the review section please – can't wait to see what you come up with.**

**Please favourite, follow and review if you're enjoying the story. More to come soon.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Pick a Feature

**A/N: I wasn't quite sure how to proceed with this chapter at first; even the title went through four or five changes. The title I landed on is actually from Disney's Aladdin; Genie speaking to Aladdin about wooing Jasmine. As Hermione is so prone to over-thinking I went with that first. Hope you enjoy her mental spiral.**

**Oh and this chapter is the beginning of Hermione's ****citrusy**** existence.**

Chapter 4 – Pick a Feature

The confidence with which Hermione had marched toward and entered the Shrieking Shack died a little as she approached the rickety internal door that would lead to... _my Severus Snape?_ She stood stock still, taking deep breaths, steeling herself, to see the man she would one day fall in love with, the man she was already in love with if her future self was to be believed. _How on earth is that going to happen? How does one seduce Severus Snape?_

It felt like she stood in that corridor for more than an hour but it was honestly no more than five minutes and it's amazing what a mind like that of Hermione Granger can come up with in five minutes.

_Ok, falling in love with Severus Snape... how do I do that? No. How do I feel that? I really don't know that much about him but I know some things. He's…what is he?_

Her mind went completely blank for the first time in years. Unable to recall a single fact about her ex-professor on the other side of the barely-hinged driftwood door, Hermione fell back on old-reliable: logic.

_Ok, Hermione… pick a feature. Hair? No, not going there; too many 'greasy' comments from Ron; not enough evidence until I can gently run my fingers through those liquid midnight shiny strands as I slide my tongue over that sneer, kissing it right off his…'Woah, where did that come from?' Definitely not hair. _

_Lips? Mouth? Tongue? _She felt something flutter in her belly as her mind hit the word 'tongue' but it was overwritten by… _acerbic, sneering, smirking, so capable of spiteful, hurtful words. Kissable? _

_This is getting me nowhere._

_Right, maybe something less physical. Intelligence. The man is a genius at potions. Strong wand work…_another twist in her stomach, _what is that feeling? Like nerves but tighter, like anticipation and apprehension mated to create a knot in my stomach bigger than a dragon egg. I have a right to apprehensive, I have to seduce Snape, I have to sleep with Snape. Occasional fantasies of gaining house points from the Head of Slytherin House via oral means do not equal planning to actually do it. Although, it would be fun to see if I could actually make him shout '100 points to Gryffindor' as he comes._ Hermione chuckled out loud. _When did my mind get so… how do I keep imagining things like that? Why do I want them to be a reality? How do I make them a reality?_

The Gryffindor witch stopped thinking and tried to pull herself together; more deep breaths.

_Maybe I need to stop thinking about Snape and focus on myself. I'm a fucking Gryffindor; I CAN DO THIS! Ok, self-confidence pep-talk…_

_What am I getting so worked up over? It's not like I'm some sixteen year old virgin who doesn't know what she's doing. I'm nineteen. I'm of age in the magical and muggle worlds; I've slept with three, almost four people (if I count Ron), one of whom is Harry fucking Potter. I know what boys want. _

_But Severus Snape isn't a boy, he's a man. Do I know what a man wants? A man like Severus Snape. So brave, so self-sacrificing, so self-loathing. How do I get him over that? My future self seems to think desire will work. How? Is it really that powerful? What am I supposed to do, straddle him in my underwear till he wakes up? I might be a Gryffindor but even I don't have that kind of courage._

_Hmmm, that voice though. That deep, penetrating baritone voice. So many potions classes with sopping knickers because of that voice; no matter what it was saying. I don't really care what he says as long as it's him speaking. And his use of language; he might use the less pleasant corners of language but at least he can speak knowledgeably, at least he's not afraid of saying something with more than two syllables… and that slow, almost creaking, lilt that drags those syllables out, like he's sweeping them directly over clit…_

Hermione was starting to feel a little warm as she considered what the vocal chords of her ex-professor allowed to resonate from his acerbic mouth, and withering wit. She realised as she had allowed herself to become a little frenzied and aroused by her thoughts that this was the moment. She drew her wand and disabled her wards. _Ready or not Severus Snape, here I come; three… two… one…_

Hermione took one final deep breath, placed her hand on the greying wood before her and pushed.

The room, more greying wood, everywhere, looked very much unchanged; Snape had obviously picked up his wand, it was no longer on the rug; she could see him in her peripheral vision lying on the bed but she daren't look yet. It wasn't very warm, despite it being May; _if he's unconscious, even if he's just in a deep sleep he needs to stay warm._

_If I make a fire, the smoke will alert someone to our presence. I'm not ready for that yet; he's certainly not ready for it. There's only one thing I can use for that kind of protection…_

Hermione retreated into the corridor, walked quickly to the front door and drew her wand, placing the tip on the slab of driftwood that covered the entrance. She gathered her magic through her body, let it pulse in every molecule of her being, she focused her mind on why she was doing this: protection, fortitude, healing, love and let it flow through her like lava, shifting and swirling, powerful and necessary.

"Fidelium Maxima"

White heat swept through her and channelled its way out of the wand in Hermione's hand. It encased the door, which shook before travelling over the rest of the broken down dwelling, coating the walls, the floors, the ceilings, every dusty nook and cobwebbed cranny in enchanted concealment. Hermione Granger was a secret keeper and as she looked back toward the room where a sleeping Severus Snape lay, all hers, warmth crept through her abdomen, moisture trickled between her legs and she realised… _I have more than one secret._

Feeling more confident, reminding herself that her body certainly found him very attractive even if her mind was still catching up on the extent of the attraction, Hermione returned to the main room of the shack and walked directly to the transfigured bed. She didn't quite look at him yet…; instead, she turned to the raggedy rug on the floor, flicked her wand at it to hold it against the wall at the end of the bed and transfigured it into a fireplace. Another flick conjured a dozen logs into the cavernous pit at the centre of the hearth and a third flick set them ablaze. Finally, with the dragon-egg sized knot still present in her churning stomach, she looked at the man whose life she had saved, the man who would become her lover, eventually.

Hermione's jaw hit the floor; at least that's what it felt like.

The man before her barely looked like Severus Snape at all. He looked younger; not in an anti-aging potion way or even in the way some men do when they dye their hair and have their first botox injection. The transformation of the dour potions professor was subtle, refined, delicate. Her fingers slowly moved toward his face, gently tracing the angle of each cheekbone, the defined ridge of his jawline, gliding her thumb over his forehead, skimming the top of his thick, narrow black eyebrows, so often raised in question when he sneered. She noticed the smoothness of his skin; until a few hours ago he had appeared as a man at least ten years older than his thirty-eight years, crow's feet scratching at the corners of his eyes, pores puckering with age and exposure to potions.

Now, his face seemed light, vibrant, relaxed, exuberant. His features hadn't changed exactly, it seemed like they'd removed the war from his face, removed the years of fear, torment and being beholden to two masters. His face was completely free of the burden that was Tom Riddle._ Free? Yes, that's exactly the right word - free of Voldermort. What if…?_

Hermione snatched her hand away from his face faster than the speed of light and dived, with both hands, over his body, toward his left arm… now Voldermort was dead, finally, she wanted to see the state of the Dark Mark; needed to see if… maybe… just maybe…

She fumbled with the cuff at his wrist.

"So many bloody buttons." Hermione cursed the tight black fabric of his sleeve and his penchant for damn buttons before looking at him. "You really need a new wardrobe, you know that!"

She went back to her task, knowing she could use magic but as the first button finally slipped free of its fastening she knew doing it by hand was the right choice; just knowing she'd killed off some of these blasted buttons was feeling very satisfying.

Frustration getting the better of her after a few minutes and only two more buttons undone – _surely he's bloody charmed them_ \- she grasped each corner of the two inches of loose fabric and yanked with all her might. The stiff, black fabric tore between her hands and buttons popped off in a myriad of directions.

"Yes!" Hermione almost jumped off the bed with joy and satisfaction as she pumped her fist into the air and exclaimed, at no-one. It's not like he was listening. She shoved the fabric up his forearm and gasped before once again, her mouth felt like it had hit the floor.

All that lay before her questing eyes and examining fingers was smooth, pale skin; the 'Dark Mark' tattoo which she knew should travel from elbow to wrist was simply not present on his inner forearm; there was no scar, no ink, no abrasion of any kind. Just a wide canvas of soft epidermis covering, not bulging muscles but certainly a well-defined shape and framed either side by a dusting of coarse black body hair.

Hermione's finger stroked up and down the length of his forearm a few times, revelling in being able to be this close to him; relishing his lack of resistance; _I wonder what else I could touch… No! Bad Hermione. Focus. More important things._

"It's gone, Professor." She whispered to him as she continued to stroke his arm.

The appendage stiffened under her ministrations and Hermione froze. _It's too soon. I'm not ready. Don't wake up yet. Pleeeease._

"Ssshhh, Professor." She continued whispering; removing her fingers in infinitesimal movements. "Ssssh, it's ok. You're safe."

He settled. _Well at least I soothe him while he's asleep. That's a good sign, right?_

After almost thirty minutes of staying very still, attempting to not disturb the sleeping Severus Snape, Hermione had a new motto for Hogwarts: '_Dormiens nunquam titillandus Snape'_, never tickle a sleeping Snape. It wasn't as catchy as the original but certainly more accurate to her current predicament.

She looked around, trying to find something to do; she couldn't leave but she couldn't sit here stationary either. The place was filthy, so far below her standards that she didn't dare think what Snape would think of the place once he was awake, alert and sneering. _I'll clean, that should kill some time. Although, apparently I've got days to wait until he wakes up. I wonder how many._

Hermione stood, carefully. It was more of a wrench than she thought it would be to move away from him; it felt like she was leaving him vulnerable in some way; paying less attention but she fortified her resolve. _I can't just sit here waiting, I'll go mad. I'll starve. I'll pee myself._

Four hours, three brief apparition trips and a quick patronus conversation with Harry later, the Shrieking Shack was unrecognisable. She had grabbed a handful of pebbles – maybe thirty – to transfigure into all manner of things, candles, dish clothes, polish, toilet roll, plates, cutlery. She'd cleared the dust and cobwebs with magic and then given the entire place a good scrub before finally casting a '_scourgefy'_ on her clothes.

She checked on Snape; he was still blissfully in the land of nod, recovering. He looked so peaceful, his face was relaxed, his eyes lightly closed; there were no painful emotions on his face, no hateful ones, just a state of nothingness. She closed her own eyes as an idea bubbled to the surface of her mind; an idea she had to really think about. _Kiss him, _her mind urged. _Love him, _came the words of her future self. _Surely a peck on the cheek would be ok? Within the realm of decency, if not completely appropriate. Just in case he has any awareness while he sleeps; just so he knows he's not alone, that he's being taken care of. Would he even know it's me?_

Her breakdown of the idea and her incessant questioning of her own mind continued as her feet moved of their own accord from the fireplace where she had stood when this idea came to her, to right beside his bed. She sat beside him again and leaned over. _I suppose I need to get used to the idea of doing more than kissing him; but this will do to start with. She said 'start small'. Can't get smaller than a peck on the cheek of a sleeping man._

Hermione leaned over Snape's face; _I wonder if I'm looming, like he does_, closed her eyes and placed a delicate, chaste kiss on his left cheek. He didn't move. _Well, it's not like this is Sleeping Beauty,_ but she was still inexplicably disappointed.

She moved away and caught a whiff of something unpleasant. _Ugh, what on earth is that?_

_Oh, sweet Merlin, it's me. This will never do._

She grabbed her beaded bag and wand and cast four accio's in quick succession: shampoo, bubble bath, soap and a sponge before heading to the bathroom; well, it wasn't really a bathroom but a toilet. She relieved herself, thankful for the fact that the shack had running water then flicked her wand at the toilet and turned it into a bathtub.

_No taps, hmmmm. This is like living in the fucking dark ages._

She took a very deep, very calming –at least that's what she told herself – breath and pointed her wand at the tub.

"_Aquamenti Calorus"_

Hot water poured out of her wand and she tipped a generous amount of the bubble bath under the stream until the small WC room smelled wonderfully of lavender and peppermint and she couldn't see in front of her for the steam.

"_Finite"_ she whispered to her wand and the water charm ceased.

After months on the run, a battle with a Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, saving half a dozen Order members, meeting the Founders of Hogwarts and her future self, not to mention playing Snape's guardian angel for half the day, she really need this bath. She didn't care that her Potions Professor was asleep in the next room, she didn't care that she was in the Shrieking Shack, neither did she care that she was about to bathe in a transfigured toilet. All she cared about as she stripped off her jeans, dusty pink hoodie and underwear was that there was hot, soothing water and bubbles and shampoo and relaxation only seconds away.

She stepped into the water and winced at the heat, _I really need to work on that spell_, but she didn't care enough to temper it as she sat down.

'_Aaaaaaaah!' _She thought as her mind let go of the tension of the war, of watching over Snape, of everything, except the feeling of his warm cheek under her lips. Hermione wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it wasn't warmth.

"Aaaaaaaah!" her throat mimicked the sound of her mind as she allowed the heat to seep into her tired, sore muscles; it felt wonderful, restorative, relaxing, _arousing?_

Sitting up from her reclining position, Hermione rubbed the smooth bar of soap into the sponge and began to glide it over her body, almost absent-mindedly washing in the process.… slowly, she caressed the curve of her neck, delicately slid the sponge across her collarbone, softly let her fingers guide the natural sponge between the valley of her breasts; sweeping it around and under each soft orb in a figure of eight. She halted the sponge as she realised her mind was wandering: _pick a feature, _it reminded her. The sponge was a little rough, almost like the imaginary callous feeling of her professor's… _hands._ She smiled with a new idea.

The sponge began its movement again, guided by her small, questing hands as she traversed it slowly, so slowly over each nipple, the cool air against her damp skin, combining with the images of Snape's large, calloused, skilled hands, puckered each point; she gasped lightly at the sensation as her other hand travelled south. Laying herself back again into the sweet, freshly scented bubbles and hot, caressing water, she hummed her pleasure …

"Mmmmm", came the low sound of her delight, fingers inching further below the water, reaching over her pubic bone, slipping lower, searching, questing, slipping into the wet heat of her own arousal. She pictured her dark brooding professor, the man she would come to love, the man she would love to make her come; saw him kneeling before her as she lay spread open for him.

As she circled her nipples one after the other with the fingers of her left hand, brushing over each occasionally, pinching lightly before returning back to the other, her right hand was penetrating two fingers into the tight cavern where pooled the slick evidence of her most secret desires, thumb nudging at her clit.

In her mind, she saw Severus Snape, lower his face to her glistening folds and lay claim to her in the most intimate and carnal of ways, lapping at her with desperation and longing, passion even… worshipping at her most sinful altar. She focused on the imaginary feel of his hands, gliding along her sides and over her abdomen, holding her open as he breathed, hot and heavy on her exposed sex, grabbing her bum firmly and holding her immovable as he latched onto her clit and sucked it hard until she fell into oblivion as her own fingers left her inner sanctum and pinched at her clit; once… twice… three times and every tense moment of the last twenty-four hours, of the last year exploded. She let it all go, every emotion, every tear, every smile, every fear, anger, hatred and joy; she freed it all in the long, high, guttural scream of her release.

In a complete haze, boneless and in the outer space of post orgasmic bliss, she slumped below the bubbles, allowing the whole world to vanish for a moment before emerging. It felt like being reborn into the woman she would become, the woman she met outside the shack; the woman in love with Severus Snape.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione left the makeshift bathroom, fresh and clean, teeth brushed, deodorant and perfume applied, and a clean(ish) set of flannel pyjamas pulled from her ever-helpful, bag of everything she ever needed. She returned to Severus' side, he hadn't moved, _thank Merlin. Not sure I could quite explain away getting myself off in the next room while he was asleep. But damn do I feel better._

"And as for you," she turned to the very still, very black-clad wizard, "you listen to me, Severus Snape; you are going to love me, I assure you that you have no choice in the matter because I refuse to allow you not to. But more importantly, and I hope you can hear this, I am going to love you like no-one has ever loved anyone before; there will be books written about the power of my love, our love; and if no-one else writes books about how much I want you, about how I survived fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement and saved your horrible little godson just for you, then I will write it myself. '_Of Sneers and Stalking in Billowing Robes', _a love story by Hermione Granger. She chuckled.

I know you're going to try and push me away; you'll snipe, sneer and spew your venom, you'll insult me and belittle me and call me an insufferable little know-it-all; I don't care. You can throw as much of your poison at me as you like, and when you're done and when you're ready, I'll be waiting. Not for an apology because I know you need to get all that nasty shit out of your system. I'll be waiting to welcome you into my heart, into my arms, into my bed because there's something you still don't know… in my mind, and in my heart, you're already there."

She stood then. It was dark out and she was exhausted and hungry.

Digging around in her beaded bag, she pulled out a plastic container full of chocolate chip cookies; one of her apparition trips earlier, to the Burrow, had provided her with several containers of baked goods from the holy grail of baking that was Molly Weasley.

"No one should sleep in boots, Professor." She told him amusedly as she removed them and placed them on the floor under the edge of 'his side' of the bed. _Hmmm, big feet. I wonder if that saying is true about big feet meaning big… stop it Hermione. You're better than that._

_No I'm not_, she thought a second later.

With a flick of her wand at the single bed, she extended it to double size before levitating Snape; lifting the duvet she gently floated him back down and threw the cover back over him.

_Now, do I walk all the way around this huge bed in my very exhausted state or do I just climb over him to get to my side. Hmmmm, choices, choices._

She clambered up onto the bed, careful not to dig a knee anywhere sensitive and stopped halfway, pausing just for a moment as she straddled his hips, _just to make the memory_, before sidling over to her own side, pulling open the container of cookies as she dreamed up inspirations of what to do with him tomorrow.

Hermione Granger, for the first time but by no means the last time, fell asleep, in the Shrieking Shack, curled up to Severus Snape. Love of her life.

**A/N: Well, there we have it. Hermione finally made it back to the shack. Lots of magic, a little fantasy and some fun in the ****toilet****, erm… tub – lol.**

**Reviews, suggestions and favouriting welcome as always.**

**P.S. It's quite late as I finish writing this so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. I don't think there's many but I'll go back over it tomorrow and update if necessary.**

**Also, just a quick shout to one of my reviewers, 'Lucyole' for the adding *cookies for inspiration* to the review. I added the cookie into this chapter just for you.  
**

**Last thing to mention, I am considering writing a sister fic to this one as the book Hermione mentioned writing in this chapter: Of Sneers and Stalking in Billowing would blatantly Hermione gushing over Snape, admitting her crush from early on and attempting to convince him in written form that her feeling for him will over power any objection he could ever come up with. If this is something you, as my readers would like, please let know in the reviews. **

**Many thanks and happy reading x**


	5. Chapter 5 - Knot of Eternal Damnation

Chapter 5 – Knot of Eternal Damnation

Warm, comfortable and feeling unusually well-protected, Hermione attempted to only minutely shift her body into a less dead-hands position; but she was stuck, held rather fast. Barely awake, she struggled to lift her heavy eyelids but as one eye finely broke free of its reluctance to open, she looked down, and froze. One very strong, black-robe-clad arm had her fastened heavily around the waist; its long, tapered fingers curling up to rest vertically between her breasts and lay with fingers resting, not quite cupping over her left breast.

_How did this even happen? Did I move in the night? Did he? Logically, we both must have to end up like this. How did I not feel it? Am I dreaming? If I am, it's bloody tame compared to the last dream I had about Snape, and entirely too clothed._

Absentmindedly, Hermione leaned further into her sleeping professor and in turn, unknowingly, the Professor tensed the arm binding his know-it-all Gryffindor ex-student and tightened his grip. _Oh Merlin, this feels nice._ _Maybe I could test the waters, while he's so unaware; if he's unaware…_ she wriggled herself backwards, into the man holding her so possessively, so intimately and felt his other arm beneath her. The almost-matching-his-right - apart from the tear in the sleeve - appendage was flat out on the bed from what she could tell but also nestled into the small of her waist from above it. She felt cocooned, protected, _jabbed at?_

_What is that?_ Then it dawned on her. "Oh!" she squeaked as he face flushed with awareness of just how closely she was cocooned. _Maybe I shouldn't have wriggled._ Less uncomfortable that she probably should've felt with the situation, but clumsy with insurmountable levels of curiosity, being so very aware now of his 'morning glory' as Harry had called it in the tent, she let the control on her mind free a little; _maybe I should wriggle more._ Under the guise of attempting to twist herself out of his hold, she pushed herself further back into the solid body behind her. The bulging erection of her ex-professor, _Oh Gods_, shifted under the movement of her wriggling, from against her back to between her legs, nesting against the apex between her thighs, where it met her bottom. _Wow_, she thought, while simultaneously realising that even if she wanted to move out of his grip, it was decidedly useless. It seemed he didn't want to let go. _Makes a nice change to awake-Snape._

A soft groan was emitted from behind her as she shifted her bottom against the impressive, solid lump of his erection forcing a little more of her weight onto him. She stilled all movement immediately, frozen awkwardly, if they were sitting up right now, she'd be sitting on his lap, or straddling him; she was practically sitting on his erection, sideways. _Oh Gods, he's going to kill me._ "I'm sorry," she whispered desperately to the man behind her; "I couldn't help it," but his sleep continued. His silence reigned once more.

_How long did she say he'd be out? Days? But I'm stuck. I'm hungry. And sweet Merlin, I need to pee._

For several minutes she lay there, wracking her brain for a solution, feeling defeated, getting aroused by the slight pulse she felt in Snape's engorged member as she continued to be pressed against it as if it were a bicycle seat. She desperately wanted to make him groan again; it had felt completely amazing to cause that sound to escape him, and she wanted to do it again. _Too risky. Think sensibly Hermione. You're bladder is ready to burst and if you move, you might set it off. Hearing that groan is not worth peeing on him. Now, what do I need to get out of this little predicament?_

_My wand. I need my wand. Where the fuck did I leave it?_

_Bollocks! It's on the floor._

She knew she couldn't reach it. In the unconscious entanglement of the night – which had landed her in this deliciously comfortable mess – Snape had pulled her to 'his side' of the bed – or she'd got there on her own, _better if he pulled me over, dragged me into him_ – and she felt miles away from the her wand.

_Wandless Accio?_ _I've done it before, once, on adrenaline. I really don't have the focus with 'that', there…_ she thought about Snape's 'bulge' again. _Snape! He's amazing at wandless magic. Maybe I could use his magic to summon my wand._

Tentatively, she moved her right hand over his where it sat without pressure, except for its own weight between her braless breasts. She whispered the much needed summoning charm: "_Accio wand._"

Well practiced in calling for the wand it knew, Snape's magic called his wand to the increasingly desperate-to-pee witch and she gasped as she caught it. The magic of it pulsed in her fingertips and she felt her whole body shiver from the contact. Ignoring the tender ache of her bladder, and the steady ache which was deepening at her core the longer she sat on Snape's 'other wand', she studied the length of wood in her hand. _Ebony? Too obvious; well, maybe ebony or… No! This isn't ebony at all, its blackthorn. Typical! Ogham tree to represent the dark half of the year. _She smiled as she brought the wand closer to her face for an inspection.

There were three slim bands of tiny intricate carvings adorning the shaft of the wand base. Hermione strained her eyes to identify them: belladonna – _beautiful and poisonous, how fitting;_ a daisy chain – _delicate, youthful, unbelievably whimsical, considering who this wand belongs to;_ a Russian vine – _tough, durable, fast growing – the wood of my wand. How very interesting._

Hermione knew that symbols of each other's wand materials sometimes magically appeared when one became romantically attached to their soulmate; lore books had been some of her favourite to study whilst on the horcrux hunt. She also knew that soul-connections usually expressed themselves through other magical means, the branding of each other's wands was rare and only occurred if the pair had been romantically involved in more than three previous lifetimes. _Yet more proof that I belong with Severus Snape; this is so weird._

Another memory of that chapter came to her:

'_The soulmate connection of the two wands, especially when they are inscribed with the botanical of its partner, allows each witch or wizard of the relationship to use the others wand as easily and effortlessly as if using their own, albeit with a more than insignificant level of arousal at the time of use. Using the wand of your soulmate is an extremely intimate undertaking and at a time when old magic was at its peak, was used as the first act of binding in the ancient hand-fasting ritual: The _'Nodum erit aeterni delicti' _ceremony; otherwise known as The Knot of Eternal Damnation._

_Two souls bound by this ceremony are fated to fall in love lifetime after lifetime; souls entwined by magic, the status of soulmates determined by the first time the ceremony is performed. If 'The Nodum erit aeterni delicti' is only performed between the same two souls in one lifetime, the magic can be undone by performing the ritual with another; however, if it is performed by the same two souls in two sequential lifetimes, it is sealed by its namesake, for eternity.'_

Hermione's thoughts fought for supremacy and recognition: _Could Snape and I have been bound by this ceremony more than once? What if we are? What if I'm eternally damned to be with him, in however many incarnations, until the end of time? Is it damnation? Maybe if he never stops thinking of me as some insufferable know-it-all, little girl. That's already getting old and this is literally forever. I need to see my wand… NOW!_

'_SNAPE, MOVE!' _She mentally screamed at her solid, warm, comfortable captor.

As if hearing her thoughts, Snape shifted behind her; his body shuffling to be a little less connected. She frowned at the loss - even though it was necessary - as his arm, which had so unceremoniously been lounging on her chest, suddenly flung itself away from her and the wizard hurled himself onto his back. Hermione felt suddenly quite cold, despite the duvet and her toasty skin; she bit back a whimper of protest because of it. _No time to ponder that bit of anomaly._

She practically jumped from the bed, Snape's wand still in hand, picked up her own and ran toward the small bathroom; returning the bathtub to a toilet as she entered.

She was sitting to relieve herself in seconds, barely able to hold it in anymore. But her concentration was focused on her own wand… there was a small something carved into the wood. Just above the base, a pyrographically enhanced design of dancing fruit; _shrivelfigs?_

_Oh fuck! Shrivelfig! The magical name for sloe fruit. Sloe being the fruit of the… _

She closed her eyes and sighed, finally completely resigned.

_The fruit of the blackthorn. _

Hermione stayed seated in the small WC for quite a while after her epiphany, debating herself back and forth on the impact this might have on her seduction of the impossibly emotionless, deathly stoic and intimidatingly formidable man that was her ex-Professor, spy, former-Death Eater, future lover, _future husband? Yikes! Oh, who can count all the things he is, was or ever could be? At least this is something he can't refute; we're magically bound for the ages, by destiny and fate, by old magic._

Bladder finally relieved and mind made up that there was no way she was going to let Snape - _Severus, call him Severus_ – no way, she was going to let Severus slip through her fingers, she tidied herself up, transfigured her pyjamas into denim shorts and a sleeveless flannel crop top, _it's warm today,_ and exited the bathroom.

One hour later, Hermione was laying on her front on 'her side' of the bed, sheets of parchment, quill, ink and a notebook before her, making plans, writing lists and doodling love hearts with 'SS' inside them. _Oh Merlin, I haven't done that since Lockhart._

The most pressing list was things she needed to accomplish for the day.

_Contact Harry – patronus? Owl?_

_Ask him for meal supplement potions for Severus – via Madam Pomfrey_

_Eat something._

_Meet Harry for potions._

_Attempt to wake Severus? _

_Read that book again: Ancient Proclivities of Ceremonial Enchantment._

_Severus needs some sort of wash – sponge bath? hehe_

"Time to get this show on the road." She turned to Severus. "And almost time to get you up, about and moving, sleeping beauty. Don't think I'm letting you laze around in bed all the time while I do all the work." She chuckled at his lack of response, knowing he would definitely have responded to that if he was awake. "Although the lack of sneering and sniping is rather pleasant. You should definitely tone that down in future. I'll let you keep the billowing robes though. They're rather sexy."

She stood then, and threw all her paperwork and planning into the beaded bag except for today's list. She looked at it… _patronus is quicker._

Hermione pictured her latest good memory, an amazingly cosy, warm memory of being snuggled into Severus Snape… _"Expecto patronum"_

A swirl of blue-white light erupted from the vine wand and formed… _a lioness? Hmmm….contemplate later, message now._

"Hello lovely. Please take this message to Harry Potter ok?

Snape and I are both safe. He needs sustenance though and so do I. Please get some meal replacement potions for him from Madam Pomfrey; oh and some vitamin ones too. He's still unconscious and I have to get nourishment into him somehow. I'll have whatever you can rustle out of Molly or the house elves. Meet me in an hour outside the Hogwarts wards; I'm assuming they've been enabled again. Oh, oh and some towels, transfiguring a pebble makes for very rough fabric. Love to everyone, see you soon."

Five minutes later as she was pulling 'Ancient Proclivities of Ceremonial Enchantments' from her bag, the silvery-white stag of her best friend's patronus cantered through the walls of the shack:

"Everyone is fine. Paperwork is going through to get Snape pardoned, should only take a few days. Best to keep him where he is until it's all settled. Guess you're playing warden, nursemaid and guardian angel for a bit longer. I'm in the hospital wing now, I'd only just left after checking on Lavender; she was attacked by Greyback. Madam Pomfrey is sorting out your supplies; ironically Snape brewed them himself. McGonagall is insisting on coming with me to see you so be prepared. See you in a bit."

As the stag faded, Hermione settled herself back onto the bed, laying on her front. She leaned back and moved Severus' closest hand onto her lower thigh and started to read.

Five minutes before she was due to meet Harry, Hermione started to feel a pang of guilt for having to leave Severus alone again. _He needs me. What if he wakes up and I'm not here? I need to reassure him, just in case he can hear me…_

She marked the page of her book, placed it in her bag and swung herself off the bed.

"I'm going to get supplies, sir. I won't be long." She said softly. Then leaned over, knee on her side of the bed, and placed a gentle kiss to his lips before turning away to walk hurriedly into the corridor, blushing a lot.

_I hate how much he suddenly makes me blush. I didn't even get this pink when I was fantasising about him bending me over my work bench in potions, my face pushed into a cauldron or Amortensia, his hands gripping my hips, him, thrusting._

_Focus Hermione. Harry can't see me all flustered and flushed. He knows what I'm like when I'm thinking about shagging. It's how I ended up shagging him. Yeah, let's not go there._

She pushed open the door and disapparated, popping back into existence just outside the gates of Hogwarts.

"Hermione, are you ok?" Harry lunged at her.

"I'm fine Harry. Really fine. Snape's a dream to deal with when he's asleep." She smiled as Harry and Professor McGonagall chortled and nodded their agreement at Hermione's analysis.

"Are you quite sure you have everything you need, Miss Granger? I'm really not comfortable allowing you to tend Severus alone." McGonagall asked with a slight pinch to her lips but concern clear in her eyes. "He really isn't your responsibility, dear."

Hermione had a feeling this would be coming and knew she had to stand her ground.

"I'm grateful for your concern, Professor, I really am. But I'm making Severus Snape my responsibility. After everything he's done for the wizarding world and after the way everyone treated him, thinking he killed Professor Dumbledore in cold blood, he needs kindness. Unfortunately, the only person I can trust to be truly kind to him is me."

At McGonagall's offended expression, and Harry looking at his feet in shame, knowing he would never be able to remove all his hostility for the grouchy Potions Professor, Hermione explained herself a little more clearly.

"I don't mean to cause offence and I know how it sounds but there has been so much hostility, so much bad blood and I don't want to risk him being blamed for anything. He had an impossible job, servant, spy and slave to both Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore. The sacrifices he made, the years of his own life he gave up, his own personal happiness… I will not risk anyone taking that for granted and I will not allow him to feel, even once, that anything he has done in the last twenty-five years has been in vain."

Minerva McGonagall narrowed her eyes at the young, expounding witch, suspicious. But Harry, it seemed was in shock.

"How did you know all that, Hermione? I haven't shown you any of the memories." He said.

Hermione sighed deeply, now wasn't the time for that story.

"It's a very long story, Harry and I want to explain, I really do. I will. But not right now. I promised Severus I'd tell him first because it's connected to how I saved his life and he's not awake yet. I'm going to keep that promise."

Harry looked a little put out but nodded.

"Miss Granger, you are taking too much upon yourself. You are weak from your time on the run and need to be cared for yourself."

Hermione scoffed, but with a smile. "You sound like Mrs Weasley."

"I shall take that as a compliment."

"I know you're worried Professor and I know you care but I will not change my mind about this. I've placed a fidelius charm on the place I'm using to look after him" she worded carefully.

Bother Minerva's and Harry's eyes were wide.

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through." Now Harry was the one who looked offended. Almost angry.

"Of course I trust you Harry. I want to tell you everything and I promise I will but a lot it is not mine to tell. I need to talk to Severus first when he wakes up. I know it's not fair to you and I know you don't like it but have you ever known me to do something without a very, very good reason?"

"No, but…"

"Harry, trust me. I'm doing the right thing with this and you will understand when I tell you but I need you to trust me for just a little bit longer. Please."

"Ok." Harry nodded. "Hey, when did you start calling him Severus?"

"Oh," Hermione's face flushed crimson and she attempted a cover story. "It just sort of happened. It's only while he's asleep. Thought I'd see how it felt."

"Yeah, right." Harry said sarcastically. "Do you fancy him?" he shuddered.

"What if I do?" she asked. _Might as well start laying the ground work for spilling the beans later._

Harry turned a little green and gagged.

"Right there. That…" She pointed at her best friend's face, her anger starting to rise a little. "That is why I'm keeping Severus Snape in my protection. After that reaction you don't deserve to know whether I fancy him or not; it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like he'd fancy me." She kept her tone even, trying to make her point. _What was my point again?_

"Sorry Mione. It's just the thought of you and Snape." He shuddered again. "Ugh."

"Miss Granger, if your protection of Severus is motivated by a crush…" the older witch paused, trying to kindly phrase the unpleasant truth, "He will not thank you for it, Hermione."

Hermione smiled.

"It's not a crush, honestly. I do like him, but it's not about that. I've explained why I feel a responsibility to him and I hope both of you can respect that."

"Okay." Harry said, his eyes on his shoes, _probably still trying not to gag._

"I will try to respect your wishes in this, Miss Granger but please send me your patronus if you need anything at all. Once Severus wakes, you are going to be in for quite the verbal tirade."

"Thank you Professor. Do you have the supplies I asked for? I really should get back in case he wakes."

Minerva handed the bag of potions, towels and food to Hermione.

"Hey Mione? What happened to your otter patronus? Where did the lioness come from?"

Hermione shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I think it might be to do with the war and my actions over the last few days. I've embraced my true Gryffindor."

"Makes sense" Harry said.

"Now I'm going to embrace the Head of Slytherin." Hermione wiggled her eyebrows and flashed a devilish grin.

Minerva shook her head, smiling at the younger witch's baiting of The Boy Who Lived.

Harry feigned gagging. "Eeeew! Mione, I don't want to know."

Hermione, and surprisingly Minerva too both laughed at Harry's disgust.

"Thanks for the supplies. I'll be in touch soon."

She leaned in to hug Harry first, then Minerva.

"Give everyone my love and tell all the injured people I hope they feel better soon."

"We will dear," Minerva replied. "There's a whole lasagne in that bag. Should last a couple of days. You remember the warming charm, yes?"

Hermione nodded.

"Stop fretting Minerva. I'm a big girl now."

"That's enough of your cheek, Miss Granger. Don't think I won't take house points for your sass."

"You…" she pointed at the older witch, "sound like Severus."

"Oh, Merlin, no," she smiled, "Anything but that." She added sarcastically.

They all burst into laughter.

"I'll tell him you said that." Hermione said, continuing her sass.

"Look after him, won't you Miss Granger?" Minerva asked, her tone softening.

"It's why I'm here." The young Gryffindor smiled at her second favourite professor, trying to convey a little of her real feelings for the brooding Potions Master.

"Well, run a long then. Mustn't keep Severus waiting; you know how he feels about lateness."

"Same as you."

She threw her arms around each of them again and whispered her thanks before stepping backwards with her bag of supplies and disapparating.

Hermione returned to the shack and to Severus in high spirits. She had expected Minerva to fight harder to be involved; perhaps the new Headmistress of Hogwarts had actually chosen to respect the young war-heroine Gryffindor, to let her make her own choices, _or maybe she's just biding her time_. _It's not like she could force the fidelius secret out of me. Well, at least I can do as I please with him for now… if 'anything' I please is not going a little too far? Oh Gods, Hermione, STOP! This is Severus Snape we're talking about; he's already going to kill me for the cuddling this morning. Pull yourself together. When he wakes up, you're going to need to 'imperious' him to get what you want._

As she sat on the edge of the bed and rummaged through the bag of new supplies, her stomach growled. _I'm not even going to think about Harry's reaction – he actually turned green; at least he didn't have a fit._ She sighed. _That boy and his anger; although I suppose he has a lot less to be angry about now._

She removed the lasagne from the bag, picked up her wand and summoned a transfigured plate and cutlery before slicing a substantial square of Italian yumminess out of the deep baking dish and placing it on the plate. _What was that warming charm again? Dammit! I hate it when I'm proven wrong. Hmmm, Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three. At least I was right to always carry all my books with me._ She summoned the book from her beaded bag and turned to the chapter on temperature charms – "at least no one is around to notice my momentary lack of academic prowess." Hermione muttered to herself as she turned toward Severus…

"Except for you, of course. Technically, I know you'll mock me for it if you're even remotely aware of what's going on but I refuse to take any of your shit anymore because, you know what, I'm human, I'm hungry and I've just been through a war. I'm entitled to a mini-lapse in memory. I'd have remembered eventually, I'm just starving."

As if in reply, Severus's stomach rumbled his own hunger.

"Oh shit, I really should feed you first. At least I got cookies last night. Although you had your hands all over my cookies this morning, didn't you? Dirty old man." She laughed to herself.

_Right, potions. _She peered into the bag; there was a long wooden test-tube holder filled with long, glass phials and the phials were full of two different coloured liquids – one a sickly green colour which looked quite watery, the other a pale pink which seemed quite pearlescent – and a note, presumably instructions from Madam Pomfrey. The young witch removed it and read:

_Miss Granger, dear,_

_I do hope you are taking good care of our darling Severus and he isn't giving you any trouble. Minerva says he's still unconscious so that must be quite the blessing for you. Now, as you are stubbornly keeping everyone away from him and I cannot assess his vitals in person please follow the first set of instructions about collecting information on his condition before proceeding to give him sustenance._

_Vital Status Retrieval Procedure and Charms_

_Have a parchment ready to receiver the data you are about to collect._

_Cast the diagnostic spell 'notitia muneris' at Severus directly. It readies the body and the wand for the next set of charms._

_Place the tip of your wand at the pulse point of his right wrist and draw three small circles there whilst reciting:_

'_Sanguis Revelio'_

'_Nervus Damnum'_

'_Cerebrum Munus'_

_These three medical detection charms will assess his blood, nerve system and brain function._

_Place the tip of the wand on the parchment and incant 'nullam notitia' to relinquish the results on to the parchment._

_As you have no owl, I will give you my spell to transfer medical documentation._

_Roll up the parchment and use a sticking spell to seal it, then use your wand once more and recite 'orci translatitio'; the parchment will glow blue and disappear from you, arriving in my magically sealed in-tray._

Hermione was awed, excited at the prospect of new spells; healer spells. She looked back to her professor…

"The things I do for you, sir. Honestly."

She followed the instructions of the Hogwarts medi-witch exactly and smiled at her own accomplishment as the details of Severus's condition wrote themselves onto the parchment before glowing bright blue and vanishing; she read on.

_Potions and How to Administer Them_

_Now dear, there are spells to control the limbs and sit Severus up so he could partake of that delicious looking lasagne from the house-elves – Italian food is his favourite, you know – but I fear for your safety if you did that to him so we shall proceed with the potions._

_I will however allow you the spell to easily administer the potions without having to get to personal, for this part anyway._

_The green potion is Revita-min: It is will give feed his body the much needed vitamins and minerals he needs. This needs to be given only once a day. In the morning is probably best._

_The pink potion is the meal replacement you asked for. Full of protein, essentials fats and his other favourite flavour – strawberries. This should be administered twice a day but at least five hours apart._

_The spell you need is: 'medicinales curas subire'. Place the potion, uncorked in his wand hand – right in Severus's case – and stand back before casting it. It has a stasis charm on it so it will not spill without contact to the recipient's lips._

_Convalescence Care_

_Hopefully this won't make you too squeamish sweetheart, after months on the run with those two boys but Severus needs to be kept clean and given exercises to avoid his muscles seizing up. It wouldn't happen for a while but as we do not know how long he will be unconscious, we need to take precautions._

_You are likely to blush a lot during the cleaning process and you have every right to but do not let it put you off or distract you. You may wish to use a spell to clean him but hands on is more effective. I have included with your supplies a hypo-allergenic flannel and a delicate soap and shampoo – Severus has very sensitive skin and can't use anything to abrasive._

_As for the exercises, at this point you only need to make sure to bend his knees up to his chest at least five times each in turn, twist his neck from side to side at least three times a day and have his arms placed in different positions to keep his cramping at bay – the cramping is from a particularly nasty crucio from last year._

_I have deputised you as Severus's healer and guardian until he regains consciousness. Any problems please send me a patronus. _

_Good luck_

_Poppy Pomfrey_

_Hogwarts_

Hermione took a very deep breath as her nerves set in – _I'm a quasi-healer_ – but turned to Severus Snape with all the confidence she could muster and a devilish grin on her face, which she was incapable of supressing.

"It's payback time Severus Snape. I've been deputised by Madam Pomfrey to look after you properly, as a healer. Which means I get to feed you, bathe you and generally do _almost_ whatever I want."

A maniacal laugh escaped her lips; such was the state of her delirious glee.

"Listen to that _Professor_, I practically cackled. You must be so proud, surely such a sound was worthy of any Slytherin, even you. Now, let's get these potions into you and then I need food before I expire. And after that…"

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "you're getting a sponge bath."

To drive home her point, just in case he was aware and there was nothing he could do about it, she placed a sensuous open-mouthed kiss just under his ear before running her tongue along the outer curve of it.

"Mmmmm, I love the taste of Slytherin in the afternoon."

Pulling back, Hermione uncorked a green potion and place it in his right hand, curling his fingers around it before stepping back as instructed and checking the letter for the spell…

"_Medicinales curas subire"_ she said with a surety she didn't feel.

She gasped at what the spell did.

Severus Snape sat bolt upright in bed, eyes still closed, lifted the phial to his lips and tipped back his head to swallow. After no more than thirty seconds he collapsed back to the bed and looked as soundly asleep as before.

"Well, that was dramatic. One more and then you're on the back burner for half hour whilst I sort myself out."

She repeated the process with the pink potion and then smiled at her sense of accomplishment.

"Don't say I never do anything for you."

She popped the empty phials in her bag and sat back on the bed to look up the warming spell and focus on her food.

"_Calora tri-gradus,"_ she whispered at her lasagne.

The lasagna was exquisite- rich tomato-y sauce, lean mince, creamy béchamel and a thick layer of cheese.

"Delicious!" Hermione stated after swallowing her last bite and vanishing the soiled plate and cutlery. "I do hope this means the house-elves have forgiven me for S.P.E.W."

"Okay. Well, I guess it's time."

She transfigured another pebble into a basin and filled it with hot water from her wand before retrieving the specially acquired flannel and soap for Severus's sensitive skin, and a towel.

Her nerves were palpable but she didn't let the show. _I have never backed away or cowed from Severus Snape and I'm not going to start now._ Three very deep breaths and she climbed onto the bed, swung her right knee over his hips and sat back straddling his thighs.

"Let's get you out of these robes, sir," she said looking at him. "It's time for your sponge bath."

**A/N: Well, now, I know I'm intentionally being mean not including the sponge bath just now but this chapter was starting to run a little long. It's top of the bill for chapter 6 though. **

**Please review. I'm writing a lot of this with no plan at all, it just is what it is when it comes out of my typing fingers but I am enjoying it thoroughly and appreciate the feedback.**

**Next chapter will likely be a few days away as I have work over the weekend but hopefully you enjoy what I've wrote so far.**

**Until next time… Love, 'always'**


	6. Chapter 6 - Brains, Bravery, Beauty

**A/N: I decided before we get to the fun events of the sponge bath to indulge a little and dive into the mind of our deliciously dark leading man. Please don't hate me for postponing the fun a little more. It felt important to add this here but rest assured Hermione will be getting to grips with her gorgeous and formidable hero soon.**

Chapter 6 – Brains, Bravery, Beauty

In all of his thirty-eight years Severus Snape had never felt so pampered, cared for or maybe… loved? He lay still, as if unconscious, feigning a complete lack of awareness, his face betraying no emotion – he was used to that but it felt like a long time to be embracing the façade this time. With true sleep claiming him for much of the time, he had no idea how much time had passed since the Granger girl had rescued his fading excuse of a life from death but with the ever increasing affection and lewd commentary, he was beginning to struggle.

Whilst she saved him, he had been unable to speak; the wound to his neck by that blasted snake had penetrated both his windpipe and vocal chords, not to mention piercing his magical core but he could hear the girl retching. It had been all he could manage to instruct Potter, urge him to take the memories as he forced them out of his tear ducts – it was mortifying to appear as if crying to any of his students, especially these ones, but Severus was out of options as to how he could give the young Gryffindor saviour, with eyes as desperately green as his mother's, the facts – he was going to die, they both were. Harry Potter had to know the truth.

The effort it took to squeeze out thirty years of heartbreak and hardship, sacrifice, love and slavery to not one but two very conflicting masters left Severus on the precipice of blacking out for good, on his last breath, his next to last heartbeat, and then…

'_Immobulus' _the Granger girl had cast.

_Well, that won't do the trick, ridiculous dunderheaded girl. Unless she isn't trying to save me. Merlin knows she must hold a grudge… they all do. You need to cast…_

'_Petrificus totalis'_ he heard her next spell but even if he had been able to breathe a sigh of relief without the gaping hole in his neck, he was cursed into rigidity and was unable to do anything at all.

_Good girl, Miss Granger. Perhaps not quite so dunderheaded after all and not a bad shot either. _

_And a stasis charm too – well, well, Miss Granger, aren't you becoming quite the little witch._

The pain had subsided immediately, frozen on the dull ache of the throbbing wound; the nerve endings unable to lash out at their sudden exposure to fangs and venom. He could still feel it but it was bearable.

His eyes were not open, he had managed, just about, to close them before her _petrificus' _hit, lest he give away too much of the little position he had left. It was pointless of course; she had him at quite the disadvantage, completely at her mercy – even if Voldemort and Nagini had done the heavy lifting for her. Snape had found himself rather thankful that it was Miss Granger and not one of the other two miscreants she kept as friends; she at least was not likely to rub his nose in the predicament he'd got himself into; she would not tease or belittle him as he had done to her for the six years she was under his tutelage – neither had she disarmed him.

She had a grace rarely found in a Gryffindor; the last time he had seen such grace in the lion's den was from Lily Evans, '_until she had blown one little comment out of proportion'_. The same could not be said of Miss Granger; after all the bile he had thrown at her, for years; after he had killed Albus Dumbledore (at least in her mind), there she was, attempting to save him from the jaws of death; it was mind-boggling. Hermione Granger was much like Lily Evans in a number of ways; she had the brains to match the bravery; perhaps even more so – 'Brightest Witch of Her Age', they called her. Her dedication to her studies was beyond commendable, even if she couldn't help showing off her endless retention – like she had an undetectable extension charm on her brain; her dedication to Potter and Weasley was misplaced but as she kept them somewhat in line and at the very least quadrupled the IQ of the trio, her association had never been discouraged; and her war effort – what a little warrior she had turned out to be.

Snape had kept tabs on the progress of the trio as much as he could go undetected during their time hunting horcruxes and he had been subtly awed by her wards, her strategizing and her command of Potter and Weasley. As he'd watched her resolve to remain with the scar-headed boy wonder when that redheaded twit had abandoned them, he had to admit that he admired her dedication; he also had wanted to crucio that ginger bit of scum to within an inch of his life – _but it would have be counterproductive_. But, oh when he came back, Miss Granger had been magnificent in her fierceness and she had won his, even if it was begrudging, respect.

When Snape's mind next focused on his surroundings, the pain in his neck was gone and he had two questions rotating in his mind…

_How am I still thinking? How am I still breathing?_

He hadn't heard her cast healing spells or summon anything to tend his wound; he hadn't felt her apply any pressure or felt any increase in pain. It was just gone. Without thinking Snape slowly moved his hand up to where the bite should have been – quite unbelieving that he was able to do so – there was no wound. It had disappeared. He knew the only magical substance that could work so well and so fast was phoenix tears but they had to be fresh and Fawkes had long since lamented his way from the castle – his master dead; _how on earth did she acquire such a thing on the run?_

Her voice broke into his thoughts…

"_I have to get back, Harry needs me,"_ the girl stated with all the authority of a seasoned Order member. He supposed she was, in a way. The command in her voice brokered no argument; she had completed her task to save him and was moving on with her no doubt considerable 'to-do-list'.

_Almost formidable. Very Gryffindor. Very McGonagall; _Snape thought, _half a century ago, _his Slytherin senses added snidely as she pointed her wand at a bag incapable of holding everything she pulled out of it… _undetectable extension charm? My, my, Miss Granger really is quite talented with that wand_; he though, in spite of himself.

She had handed him three items and he coolly appraised them, as was habitual at this point when he regarded anything unknown. It was obviously a packed lunch of some sort and a potion – an unfamiliar potion, _how unusual, she would know a potion that I do not._

Unable to help himself, still in shock at being saved and his control not quite back to what it should be, he inquired on auto-pilot as to what she had handed him.

"_Blood replenishing potion…" _she'd began. _Unlikely. It lacks the granite appearance and dark red hue of a blood replenishing potion. More likely she has been fobbed off by a charlatan apothecary owner. This pearlescent swirl is certainly more akin to the anaesthetic family of potions._

She continued.

"… _It's my own recipe, focuses on speeding up the naturally occurring division of blood cells – the effects last an hour."_

_Now, that is interesting. Using muggle research of cell division. What a clever witch you are Miss Granger. That would account for the pearlescent nature; it works the white blood cells too. When on earth did she have time to make this?_

Lost in his musings he'd missed most of what she continued to ramble on about - the bottle of water and a sandwich, only catching something about a lake, Merlin's magic and healing properties. It all sounded rather far-fetched and so he'd disregarded it as unimportant.

_Did she just say 'play nurse maid'? Intriguing. She's a little young to play 'healer'_, he mused internally, _but she has grown into something of a very fine young witch. Shame I couldn't possibly…_

"_Not that you'd let me."_

_How little you understand of what I would allow, Miss Granger. Not so much a know-it-all after all, apparently._

He had realised, in that moment that he had absent-mindedly been running his eyes over her petite, yet beautifully blossoming into womanhood figure and nodding his unbidden approval.

As the young witch continued, Severus found himself drawn to her voice; it was not over-eager or unashamedly excited as it had been when she was a young student desperate to learn everything and prove herself. She explained her achievements matter-of-factly, as if it meant nothing to her to have achieved such as her own blood-replenishing potion. She had become mature beyond her years – amazingly talented, brilliant even by his exacting standards, demure but quietly confident in her conversing… he was captivated.

His thoughts had focused on her words mid-sentence…

"…_won't be off to Askaban for Dumbledore's death either. If I get my way, you'll be honoured with a First Class, Order of Merlin."_

_How could she possibly know? I only gave Potter those memories minutes ago. How can she have that knowledge? Is she a legillemens? _

"_Please, stay here for now;" _the girl pleaded with him, her eyes close to tears._ "I know you probably don't want to but it's safer for you if you stay dead, at least to him. _

He couldn't fault her logic, even if he wanted to; it would indeed be safer for the Dark Lord to assume he had died; but why she cared, why she had decided to save him was beyond his own understanding. She was very wrong about one thing though; as much as he really had no interest in staying in the Shrieking Shack, he had no interest in leaving it either, at least until he got answers from her about the source of her wisdom; even Dumbledore hadn't known some of it.

"_I'll come and find you when this is all over." _She finished and headed for the door.

And then, it really hit him. He was sitting idly by while this young woman of what… eighteen, was going off to fight a war, support her friends, save them, _like she saved me_. _Me? Why me? What possible reason could she have? There is no way she can know my truest loyalties have always been to bring down Tom Riddle; but then she mentioned an Order of Merlin and…_

Again her voice cut through his mental ramblings…

"_Your wand is on the rug. Disillusion yourself and get some rest. I think it's about time you had a moment to relax. I'll ward the shack. No one will come looking." _

_How amazingly astute of her? Surely she couldn't have planned this? And why the hell does she care? After how I've treated her and her friends? From her perspective, I must appear almost as monstrous as Voldemort._

She seemed to be taking in several deep breaths, steeling herself for something, summoning all that courage and bravery her Gryffindor heart was so well known for. _Typical, _his Slytherin tendencies nudged but as a man, he could see the confidence wash over her even as she stumbled through her wording.

"_In case I don't see you again; I know you're likely to vanish. I want… I want to say… thank you, for all you've done. Thank you for risking your life, thank you for doing so every day, thank you for protecting Harry even though you had so many reasons not to want to. There are so many things I want to thank you for, that I need to thank you for and hope that we will meet again and you give me the chance._"

_Sweet Salazar, she really does understand. But that's not possible. How?_

He suddenly heard a voice, a voice from nowhere it seemed, the voice of Albus Dumbledore…

"_Severus. Miss Granger is indeed possessed of the knowledge of much of your struggles, not from my own impartment you understand, but by other means… an unexpected convergence of stray magics within the Department of Mysteries. Let her in, Severus, and she can help you in a way no one else ever could."_

He huffed internally and was about to berate the disembodied voice of one of his ex-masters when he heard the real reason Miss Granger had needed to so steel herself a moment ago; she was issuing him a request…

"_I find myself wanting to hug you, Professor. Should I think better of it, sir?"_

Severus was struck dumb; not for the first time since she had saved his life. This slip of a young girl, war-heroine at eighteen, warrior, swot, know-it-all, insufferable, beautiful, Gryffindor, witch wanted to hug him. As much as it went beyond everything he would usually portray to the world, she had just saved his life. He owed her his gratitude. Not that a hug would be enough but he could submit to her request.

"Very well, Miss Granger. But make it quick, the battle is not yet won; you have work to do."

The poor girl looked as mind-blown by his acquiescence as he was by her request. It took her a moment to approach and he felt as though his heart had stopped beating in his chest, like his breath had completely ceased moving from atmosphere to lungs and back again. When she did finally move toward him, it was not tentative or shy; it was full force and full of gratitude and hope and love and a need for him to reciprocate it.

It seemed she was holding on for dear life and with his magic slowly rippling back to him, he could just about sense the edge of her feelings as the empathic skills of his legillemency fluttered with energy. _She loves me._

He could tell she wasn't aware of it, but it was there, just below the surface of her understanding. For all her knowledge and wisdom, her emotional intelligence was not quite to the standard of her mind but when she began speaking again, against his chest, Severus began to doubt his own conclusion…

"_Thank you, Professor, thank you for everything. It's time to let go of the past now, you are a good man. Everything you have done has been with good reason and so I want you to know, I want you to always know, that you are forgiven. I may not be able to convince everyone to feel the same way but, by Merlin, I'm going to try."_

To Severus Snape, a man with very little understanding of emotional connection and romantic love himself, the words she was practically whispering to him, were the words of a woman in love whether she knew it or not. And they urged him to allow his own vulnerability to surface, if just for a moment, and a tear fell from his eye.

He wiped it away quickly, a little wary of allowing her to feel it or see it, and placed a hopefully comforting hand on her shoulder before allowing a small measure of his gratitude to escape his lips.

"I appreciate that, Miss Granger."

She moved away slightly and looked over him, _is she eying me up? This witch has her mind on backwards. _

"_How do you feel, Professor? Did the phoenix tears heal you completely? Are you ok?"_

_Why does she care? It's infuriating not knowing how she came to understand me so bloody well. I know the little witch is observant and smart as a whip but could she really have just put it all together? _

After too many moments of his own internal questioning, he realised she had asked him a question. Not that it mattered if he didn't answer her, she was used to his silence and his annoyance at her endless questions but perhaps, just this once, he actually owed her an answer.

"I will survive. Thanks to you. Now, run a long and be the wisdom behind our dunderheaded saviour,"

Severus honestly and truly attempted to smugly enjoy his jibe at her best friend, the Boy Who Lived, but knowing he was sending her off into the magical battlefield made something in his heart twist painfully.

But then she smiled; a full, brilliant smile that he had only ever seen her use for the likes of Gryffindor's and this time, it was directed at him; her stunningly rich caramel eyes shining with warmth and humour for him as she saluted him and said in her most anything-to-please-a-professor voice… "Yes, sir."

And then she was gone.

**A/N: Ok so this is the first of hopefully no more than two chapters of Severus's side of things before we get to the deliciousness that will be that sponge bath. Can't wait to write that.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and favourited so far and much love to my reviewers, your comments and support are always appreciated and I will always endeavour to reply when I can.**


	7. Chapter 7 - Comprehension

Chapter 7 – Comprehension

As the bossy young witch left his company to be the fierce, unstoppable force of magnificence he had always known she would become, Severus surveyed his surroundings. He stared at the bed she had transfigured for him, complete with very comfortable looking pillows and a thick, luxurious duvet – _that girl really is very good at everything, I bet there's even a warming charm over the whole thing._

He approached the single bed slowly – _I really am quite tired, maybe I should rest; but can I trust her? She seems to know I was not particularly acting of my own volition in killing Albus but she was… she still is so loyal to the manipulative old git; could she really have _my_ best interests at heart?_

Reaching the small wooden bedframe, he placed her gifted items down and turned to collect his wand; with his magic returning he needed to be prepared in case anyone did come looking, _despite Miss Granger's assurances they would not - _he was supposed to be dead, and he intended to adhere to her advice and stay that way. At least until the war was decided one way or the other.

_Maybe I should check her wards. My magic must have stabilised. That empathic wave I felt from her wouldn't have registered otherwise, surely._

"Clipeum Revelio"

He gasped in astonishment.

_Impressive. Seven wards. 'The Admittance Limiter' – only her, thank Salazar; 'Anti-Apparition' – of course but… is that… no, surely not… a 'HR Blocker' – my goodness Miss Granger, even _homenum revelio_ won't detect my continued existence. That is quite beyond N.E.W.T. level, Auror-stealth training level in fact – Tonks perhaps showed her, or Madeye?_

He continued inspecting her wards, his magical core returning to health more and more as the seconds ticked by. Many wizards and witches would take longer to recover but Severus Snape had the good-fortune of being strongly magical and with the precious healing on phoenix tears, the stabilisation took mere minutes whilst he identified her remaining wards – two forms of magic-repellent and a ward he'd never seen before, never even heard of which, from what he could discern, immobilised the effectiveness of the Imperius Curse – _such a thing should be in the Auror Training Manual – _which he had read several times. It was not. _Surely she isn't nearly as advanced in her defensive magic to create such a powerful shield – she must have learned it from one of the Auror's in the Order,_ he thought dismissively. _Although if anyone was going to have the motivation, intelligence and skill to invent and cast an anti-imperius ward, it would be Hermione Jean Granger – the girl is a walking magical monsoon._

The final ward Severus detected was not on the shack itself but specifically tailored to him; it prevented all and any form of attack from landing on his person whilst he remained in the broken down dwelling. _Another very advanced ward; she really is a magical dynamo. The specifics of it are…_ he allowed his magic, his sense to creep out and touch the ward, examine it and what he found was astonishing._ What? It's an emotion based ward – she has to feel, really feel a surge of protective affection. _But that was not the element of the ward that was flabbergasting. _And a… a… sexual component… for me… to cast this. It's a lover's ward._

His heart tightened in his chest at the revelation, his breath shallowed. _She couldn't possibly? But then…_

The epiphany that Hermione Granger was lusting for him, _more than lusting for this ward to be enacted_, was a tonic to soothe years of self-loathing; an impressively smug expression graced his striking features; the signature lift of his disbelieving eyebrow reaching new heights…

_Well who would have thought it? The Gryffindor Princess crushing of the Bat of the Dungeons, _he considered in all his pride and smugness, albeit with high levels of surprise, and laughed at the absurdity. His still not-quite-under-control body reared in triumph at attracting the young, nubile witch and he felt a twitch in his undergarment at the mostly unconscious things his mind allowed at the discovery.

His stomach growled to distract where his mind might have been going and he looked down at it.

"Okay, okay. I'll eat." He opened the lunchbox first and took a bite of the ham salad sandwich; he was sure it would have tasted completely fine, that Miss Granger was as adept at sandwich construction as she was at everything else, but his throat stung with parchedness as he swallowed and he switched to bottle of water before planning to succumb to the demands of his empty stomach.

"Aaaah, sweet nectar of the Gods." He sighed with relief as he sat stiffly on the edge of the bed; he drank deeply, almost the entire bottle he realised as he looked back at it a moment later. _She really is a very good nurse maid._

The image of Hermione in a 1950's muggle nurses uniform, complete with white-seamed stockings and Slytherin-green stilettos entered his head. He lay down, the sandwich forgotten for more delightful thoughts, imagining her leaning over to tend him in such a way that her uniform gaped at the chest and he could stare at her ample cleavage. He imagined burying his face in between her ripe, perfectly-rounded, exactly-fitting-the-size-of-his hands breasts and a surge of arousal flooded through him, stirring his flaccid-for-too-long cock.

With the war still raging, he knew Hermione would be some time and so he moved a hand hastily toward the buttons of his quickly tenting trousers. Top button released, he moved to the one below it but then stopped. Something very unusual was happening…

It took only a moment for him to realise the something that was happening to him was magical and that it was the effect of Miss Granger's gifted water. Warmth spread through his body, easing his muscles, relieving decades of twinges, aches and pains. His shoulders relinquished their tension and he felt… tired, consumed by the last two decades of fear-induced insomnia, and a true disabling of awareness overpowered him. It felt wonderful and he did not have the will to fight it and so, he let go and allowed his consciousness to slip incrementally into sweet, restorative darkness.

He was almost there, almost completely lost to unconsciousness when a prickle danced across his synapses; _it's like an itch I can't quite scratch; no, a tickle caressing nerve endings and yet… and yet… not quite that either. It's almost both and neither. An invading magic, _Severus recognised, although he was now too far from consciousness to resist it - _not quite dark but certainly not light. Healing? Old?_ It was a magic he had never encountered – very old, very powerful and more healing than he could possibly understand as it twisted through his body restoring, rejuvenating and replenishing.

At the loss of control, he felt panic rise within him. _Am I discovered? Has Riddle read Miss Granger's mind and come back to kill me again? Is it the snake again? _His heart gave several stark palpitations at the fear of Nagini's return but after another moment and his attempt at a deep breath the prickling sensation was stopped. Or rather it changed; settled, sunk into his veins, floated on his breath and soothed his fears, lulling his mind back into the warm comfort of darkness. He tried to hold on to consciousness but it was in vain, deep, calming waves of magic rolled over him in waves and once more, completely this time, exhaustion finally claimed his consciousness.

**SS**

He could sense her before she was even in the room. Severus had no idea how long he had been asleep but he felt extraordinarily rested; whatever had been in that water had worked wonders. He didn't attempt to move, much too comfortable. It felt as though she stood beyond the door for almost an age; he could feel her anxiety - empathic abilities were so second nature to him – he felt her questioning herself, and a high level of confusion but there was something else…subtle at first but it grew rapidly and then she was… _decided._

Unable to help himself, he allowed his restored magic and his own mind to skirt through the wooden barrier and into her very tidy, much organised thoughts. Except he did not see what he was expecting…

He was stood in an expansive foyer, light and airy, clean. It seemed scented with sandalwood and cigar smoke; his brand of cigars, his sandalwood soap. He ignored the slight skip of a beat his heart gave and surveyed the area.

A desk sat in the middle of the floor space and a single book lay on its surface. He approached and examined the book. The pages were blank. He thought for a moment, the space reminded him of a library; very Hermione Granger but it was empty, devoid of books. _Almost like an occluded library,_ and then it hit him, like a ton of bricks. He almost bounced back out of her mind as he blanched at the significance of her achievement; he was in her occluding space. This was the only place anyone employing legillemency against her could reach without her knowledge; it took an incredible amount of mental discipline to create an occluding space rather than just putting up walls. This was advanced occlumency, almost at Severus' own level. The book was a portal to her consciousness. He was beyond impressed, to have mastered an occluding space at eighteen was unheard of – she was glorious. Severus felt himself slip deeper in love with the young witch; not that he was ready to admit it, but it was there.

He could feel the whir of her thoughts outside the room but had no access to them. It annoyed him more than he imagined it would. While he was amazingly proud of her occlumency achievement, his curiosity was stronger, palpable in fact and he was positively vibrating with the urge to know what was taking her so long to enter the room where he waited for her.

A sense of something hit him, a phrase burned in his brain – 'pick a feature'. It echoed in his mind, in her voice.

_What could that possibly mean?_

His magic was focusing on the book on the desk and he consciously moved the energy to pierce its defences; he suspected he would sense a mental anguish when his mind attempted to enter the book, assumed the tome would defend itself and prayed to any deity who might be listening that she would forgive him. But he found no resistance.

_She's either too lost in her own thoughts to recognise the breach or she… she… really does… trust me. Well, this is unexpected._

An image appeared on the crisp white parchment of the book – his face; it seemed to be artistically sketched in charcoal, shadows and highlights masterfully recounted the lines and shape of his visage but the features were smudged out, a blur; his hair however, his hair was glowing; not at all reminiscent of the greasiness he was well known for but shining as if it had never interacted with the vapours of a potion. A disembodied hand with slim, agile fingers moved through the shoulder-length inky blackness of fine strands before the whole images melted into the page and was gone.

Severus was stunned as he watched the renewed emptiness of the page. It took a few moments before another image appeared. A carefully drawn watercolour this time of… his mouth…? She had captured the thin curves of his lips perfectly, the tone and texture were flawless; he felt he could be looking into a mirror. _Exactly how much time has she spent looking?_

A tongue slipped between the two thin pillows of a masculine pout before slipping back into the cavernous depths of an imagined mouth and a sneer curved one corner of the fantasy lips and they moved into the shape of the word 'insufferable'. His heart sank a little that this was what she imagined his mouth to still reiterate and, just as suddenly the painted lips straightened back into a thin line before smiling and finally squeezed into a tight, childlike kiss.

Again, the art of her mind faded. Severus waited.

More artistic works of Hermione's mind flashed onto the pages as they occasionally flipped before settling to let him see…

He stood at the front of his potions class, teaching a class of fourth year Gryffindors' Hermione included; her heart beating quickly at the sound of his voice listing ingredients for a Cheering Solution. _The first time she felt aroused by me… by my voice._

Another flurry of pages.

He was stalking through the Great Hall at Hogwarts as his robes billowed around him – _'oh the billowing'_ he heard her inner voice. _My voice and the billowing of my robes… interesting combination Miss Granger._

Another.

He sat at the head table in the Great Hall talking animatedly, for him, with Aurora Sinistra. _Jealousy?_

This time the image faded again but as a new one formed, Severus was amazed, astounded and aghast… something he never believed he would see in the mind of the young Gryffindor witch…

Headmaster Severus Snape leaning against the ornate desk in his office, eyes closed, head thrown back whilst she knelt before him, her mouth enthusiastically enveloping his wizardhood.

Shock filled every fibre of his being as he watched the pencil sketch scene play out on the page… seconds ticked by as her sketched head bobbed up and down on the drawn engorgement of his arousal, her scribbles of cascading curls shifting as she lifted and lowered her mouth. He watched in awe as the scene continued, in arousal, as her idea of his body tensing for climax was revealed and in amusement as he heard his own orgasmic declaration: "100 points for Gryffindor".

_Oh, that girl! _He thought his affection for her blossoming further at her cheek.

The fellating scene faded and so too did the occlumency space darken around him; Severus found his consciousness returning to his own body.

_Unbelievable._

So unbelievable in fact that he attempted to wipe a hand down his face, to remind himself that he was awake and not dreaming himself. But to his utter dismay, he could not. His hand, his whole arm in fact would not obey the command to move. He tried the other side: nothing. His legs equally were incapable of movement. His eyes wouldn't open.

Panic rose quickly and he felt his chest constricting, his breath hitched. He couldn't move. The two further minutes it took for her to enter the room felt like a lifetime to Severus but the second the door opened, his panic reached its peak and shattered. He knew it was her, he could sense her, smell her and her presence somehow calmed him. _She saved me once, she'll know something is wrong, she will save me again, _he rationalised as he finally exhaled.

She was standing in the doorway though, unmoving. _What is she doing? Come here, Miss Granger. You're my only hope…_ he steeled himself for his next thought: _I need you._

She bolted back through the archway and according to the determined wave of emotion that rolled off her and along his empathic senses, she was on a mission. Many hours later, probably only minutes, maybe even seconds – it was hard to tell when you couldn't see – the Shrieking Shack shook. Severus recognised the effects of casting a Fidelius Charm and wondered what had possessed her to do so; _was Voldermort gone? Had the war been won? _

Her thoughts, her desires, had taken him so completely by surprise he had barely registered that the war may be over, that the soulless bastard despot might actually be dead, since she had returned. Now, as he waited for her to return once more, it flooded his mind and he immediately thought of his dark mark. He couldn't feel it at all, as he usually could. Even when he was not actively being summoned, it burned, itched or prickled with his dark master's mood. He couldn't feel anything on his left forearm; it was as if the accursed mark of his Death Eater brand wasn't there at all. _Is that even possible?_

He felt the bed suddenly sink near his middle and all thoughts of Voldermort vanished as Severus was unceremoniously wrenched back to his present situation, his current condition and his annoying paralysis. She was there. Sitting with him. He heard her gasp and then… then… she was touching him.

An unexpressed shiver ripped through him as the lightest touch of fingertips flittered over his cheekbone, then along his jawline. Her small, warm hand hovered over his face and he knew that even if he wasn't paralyzed by some unknown magical faux pas, he would be frozen as she delicately explored the contours of his old, worn out face.

Her touch was exquisite, reverent but seemed almost shy and when her thumb softly smoothed his forehead, he wanted to sigh with pleasure. Instead, his senses - so highly alert in this intimate moment - caught a single, questioning word on the surface of her thoughts… _free?_

He was just readying himself to ponder what she meant by the question when the warmth of her caress vanished; he felt cold at its loss but was jerked from pondering that too by the witch fumbling with something at his left wrist. _What is she doing?_

"_So many bloody buttons." _He heard grind out in frustration at her struggle and chuckled inwardly. He had always chosen clothes that were both black and concealing of his dark mark; not to mention difficult to remove. This set of robes, his Death Eater robes in fact, had a light charm on the buttons to add to the resistance of undoing them. _"You really need a new wardrobe, you know that?" _she questioned as if he could answer.He found himself wanting to scoff.

_You could use magic, you know?_ Like for like, he chose to question her as if she could hear him. She was doing well, considering she must've been exhausted from the battle, three buttons in twice as many minutes but as she let out an exasperated sigh and slowed her hands, Severus felt she was giving up.

However, he had forgotten momentarily that this witch was muggleborn and as such was not as restricted in her thoughts of how to deal with little annoyances such as charmed bloody buttons. When he heard a tear of fabric and felt his sleeve being roughly pushed up his arm, he exalted, proud of her, and heard her triumphant _"YES!"_ He would finally know… _was he gone… was Tom Riddle finally defeated? Am I finally free?_

He felt her fingers again. This time they were ghosting over his forearm, elbow to wrist; the location of the worst magical contract of his life, his servitude to darkness. The fingertips traversing his skin were barely touching him at all, they felt like a breath, exploring.

His mind reached out once more, as delicately as her fingertips to caress her thoughts; what he hadn't counted on was her thoughts wanting to caress something other than his arm. Amused, he remained to see how far her mind would imagine molesting his prone form. Disappointingly though, she chastised herself before whispering aloud, to him…

"_It's gone, Professor."_

Hope flooded his whole body, every sense he possessed and whether it was muscle memory or the sheer force of emotion that washed through him as she whispered her observation, Severus didn't know but something in his magical binding slipped, just a little and he felt his arm tense up under her gentle hold.

She jumped nervously but didn't let go.

Still in her mind, as he was, he heard her panic… _'It's too soon. I'm not ready. Don't wake up yet. Pleeeease.'_ And simultaneously, her whispered words continued in soothing, honeyed tones…

"_Ssshhh, Professor."_ She was removing his arm from her feather-light touch, slowly, scared. "_Ssssh, it's ok. You're safe."_

His body obeyed her silent command to not wake up and he found himself unwillingly falling back into the darkness of slumber, his mind unsuccessfully clawing for consciousness.

**A/N: Well here we have one of my favourite scenes so far as seen from Severus' mind. This side of the story is taking up more writing and adding more insights that I thought it would and so each scene or possibly two scenes will have its own chapter until we are back up to the present. I'm really loving this story which is why I have pressed forward with it ahead of my others but I will be updating Girl's Night in the next few days too. Never fear.**

**Follows, favourites and reviews appreciated as always. **


	8. Chapter 8 - The Conflicted Professor

**A/N: Oh Merlin, I seriously never expected I'd reach chapter 8. This chapter though, oh my God… I have toiled over it, dreamed it, breathed it, eaten it; deciding, deliberating, dying over Severus's reaction to Hermione's little bathroom delight. I really hope I got it right and set the tone well for how things will continue. One more chapter of Severus's point of view of what has already happened before we return to the main story and that sponge bath… I am dangling that scene like the proverbial carrot. Hope you all enjoy this chapter…**

Chapter 8 – The Conflicted Professor

Severus Snape was in something of a strange predicament - he was being held captive and controlled; _not completely unwillingly_, he surprised himself by thinking and not by anything as direct and unforgiveable as the 'Imperious curse'. No, his captor's wards had prevented that. In fact, he very much doubted that his captor was even aware that he was under her control. She was not a woman whom would seize that type of power over anyone purposely, never mind intentionally use it against anyone, not even a member of Slytherin House.

He had realised the extent of her control and really only had his first inkling of its existence by the reading of her thoughts; of hearing her mind wishing his stay in the realm of unconsciousness to be extended until she was ready to face him. _Why can my life not just be simple?_ If he was being honest, he did need the rest; it had been just shy of three years since the Dark Lord had returned and he hadn't slept soundly since. _When you are a spy for both sides of a war, sleep is a luxury one can barely afford._

It took a few minutes, after Hermione Granger left his prone form on the transfigured bed, for him to realise her control on him had slipped – it seemed weaker when she was further away from him – _is it only active within certain proximity boundaries?_ _How is it connected to only her? _He raked over every memory, every book he had ever read about curses and magics concerning mind control – nothing seemed to fit the circumstances of his situation. _I wonder if it could be a life-debt. I am indebted to her for my continued existence. That would certainly make her a new master. No. A new Mistress. Oh Merlin. Please do not let it be that. All I want is my freedom. _Hermione took off in the direction of the bathroom, _probably to relieve herself_; _I could do with that luxury myself, _and his eyes fluttered open to scan the room. It was just as he remembered before his water-induced coma and Granger-induced sleep; dark, foreboding, unloved, _just like me_, he thought sadly. _Miss Granger may be having strange and extremely alluring thoughts about me but her care is surely manufactured by her Gryffindor compassion. It has to be._

_Wait! Wait! That damn water. She said it was from a lake, a lake that held Merlin's magic but wasn't Merlin's magic tainted – Binns said something about it in fifth year._

As he waited for Hermione to return, Snape attempted to recall, from his old 'History of Magic' lessons, the types of power Merlin had indulged in and harnessed; but even then Cuthbert Binns had been a complete bore and young Severus had zoned out in almost every lesson, his mind wandering to solve the problem of how to get more juice from a sopophorous bean – _crush it, don't cut_ – he remembered.

_Merlin was a follower of the old religion; old Gods, old magic - binding destinies, manipulating bloodlines – Avalon - Celtic mythologies; not really myths – the feud, with Morgana Le Fey, the curse. Morgana cursed Merlin's magic to… to… what? Why can't I remember? Blasted, fucking sopophorus bean._

Hearing her return, he closed his eyes and resumed to his lifeless position. But her footsteps didn't sound as though they were coming toward him; she was shuffling back down the corridor toward the exit. _Where is she going now? _He cast his magic into her mind for an answer – _supplies. Fair enough. Gives me a chance to relieve myself at least, and stretch my legs._

As he felt the wards reseal behind her exit, he sat up easily, more easily than he had in years he realised, stood and stretched before heading for the bathroom which provided his bladder a very great sense of long-awaited emptiness. He returned to his position just as he felt the wards shimmer again at her presence.

The next hour passed by at the pace of a flesh-eating slug, he stuck pondering the specifics of Merlin's tainted magic, she pottering about, murmuring cleaning spells and conjuring logs for the fire – after she disappeared again for another twenty minutes she was being covertly monitored from the bed. He couldn't risk opening his eyes or shifting, she might be facing him but with his magic restored, he could force an outer-body-experience and observe her. She was cleaning, he discovered as his astral sight focused on the young witch; scrubbing the floor it would seem, scrubbing and humming. He recognised the tune - an old Bonnie Tyler song his mother used to sing, _something about a hero._ His astral self scoffed; _young bloody witches and their unrealistic expectations of men._ But when her humming switched to actual singing her voice was powerful, desperate for what the lyrics described, determined to find herself someone worthy as if only the type of man the song was defining could seduce her…

"_I need a hero; I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night… he's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight…."_

He couldn't help himself, he had to look from his own body, he had to hear the vibration of her voice echo in his chest, curl around his heart... _bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses. Little minx. Is she casting love spells, lust spells in music…?_ Back in his body he certainly felt bewitched by her voice, ensnared by the lyrics. He opened his eyes and shifted slightly to watch

What he saw was an image that would stay with him forever… she was facing away from him – _thankfully_ – but in the moments of him returning to his body she had removed her pale pink hoody and now he could see the hip-hugging jeans and a strappy green vest top that was riding up to reveal her lower back, which was branded with a tattoo – of a book. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was bending over on her hands and knees; he refused to shift his dark, appraising eyes skyward for an eye roll and miss even a second of those sweetly rounded, denim-clad orbs which comprised her pretty heart-shaped bottom. His gaze settled to watch its quarry wriggle to the melody of her song but as she continued the chorus, she suddenly reared up on her knees. She was holding a scrubbing brush like a microphone as her endless chestnut curls flew loose and wild from the unsecured bun on her head as she belted out the remainder of the song…

"_I need a hero… I'm holding out for a hero till the morning light. He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon. He's gotta be larger than life… larger than life."_

His mind was gone; mesmerised by her swaying hips, lost in the power and surety of her strong, melodic voice; it was a balm, _is she singing about me? To me?_ She returned to humming the instrumental bridge between chorus and second verse and his mind returned enough from the haze of lust to listen to more lyrics when she seamlessly shifted back into singing…

"_Somewhere after midnight, in my wildest fantasy. Somewhere just beyond my reach, there's someone reaching back for me. Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat…"_

_Perhaps her romanticised version of my role as a spy._

"_It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet…"_

_Yes, definitely a romanticised account of my role. Although, if I wanted to, easy enough to play to that version… if it's what she wants. I do owe her for saving my life, even if she does keep paralysing me. She really does seem quite infatuated. It can't be healthy. I shouldn't encourage it but…_

She began the chorus again, masterfully, controlling every word, meaning every word, Severus could feel the emotion between her words and he knew he would give her anything she wanted, he had succumb.

_I'm hers._

She finished the song but continued to hum the tune for the next half an hour as she scrubbed at the floor with more vigour than a house-elf. He was impressed and allowed himself to watch her without reprieve. She was so entranced by her work, she didn't even seem to notice he was in a different position. Eventually though, he begrudging slipped back to how he lay before – knowing she was not ready for him to be awake had stopped being the reason - mentally cursing this need he had developed to keep her from discovering the truth. He felt she would reveal more if, to her, he remained unconscious.

She spent the next few hours popping in and out of the shack, casting cleaning charms, transfiguring all manner of useful things. He listened as she worked, humming to herself, occasionally bursting into a myriad of lyrics from so many different genres he was amazed they could all be to her taste – hearing her attempt to rap was possibly the most amusing moment of his life. His mind drifted from in and out of sleep, so comfortable on the little bed, so blissful listening to Miss Granger make the Shrieking Shack more liveable – it was as if she was playing 'house'.

His mind had just awoken again, for the third time in the last two hours by her belting out the end of Think Twice by Celine Dion – her choice in music seemed to have a theme, convincing him she was worth his romantic interest. He already knew that, although he loathed himself for it. _I would ruin her life_, was all that kept playing on a loop in the back of his mind.

She was approaching the bed again, he could hear her breathlessness from the note she had just wrung from her lungs. It felt like she watched him for a week; he held himself perfectly still, appearing at ease as his heart hammered a tango in his chest. She was still moving closer and then…

Body heat was pressing against him; no, not pressing, hovering; she was leaning over him… he felt her thoughts, questioning…

'_Is this looming? Like he does.'_

It took every ounce of control for him not to burst out laughing. Her face was too close, she would discern even the faintest twitch of his lips and so he held his breath, held himself so still it was as if he had taken a Draught of Living Death. His insides quivered with the tension of it and then it didn't matter. Nothing mattered because there was a touch, a brush of her lips, feather light across his left cheekbone and Gods how it burned. The feel of her so close and yet so out of reach, the caress of her lips was everything, intoxicating, hot and just about damn well torturous.

He couldn't resist. Honestly, truly he couldn't. He almost, _almost, _tried to. His mind dove into hers again; he felt overwhelming disappoint from every fibre of her being. _What on earth did she have to be disappointed about? She felt incredible. _But then a horrifically depressing thought caught on the fabric of his feelings: _what if she didn't feel it? _Then she was rationalising - _'it's not like this is Sleeping Beauty' – _and it made sense; she was romanticising again; wanting him to awaken at her kiss. _How can she hold such blissful ignorance, such Disney-branded innocence after a war? _It was more disarming to him than Expelliarmus.

He was lost in his astonishment, warring with his own self-loathing and fruitlessly attempting to still his desire for her – _she is barely of age, you old pervert, _he told himself. _Get a grip and stop this pitiful lusting. Her feelings are misguided and irrelevant. You are a grown-arse man and you will stop this insanity this instant. She deserves better, she deserves someone her own age, someone handsome who can give her all she needs, who can be everything she wants. You, Severus Tobias Snape are not that man._

Adrift in his mental berating as he was while maintaining the stillness and even breathing of sleep, he did not notice her once more slip away from him, or her Accio'ing of several bathing items from her bottomless bag of everything and head towards the bathroom. If he had been aware of her intentions as she left his company, his mind may not have followed quite so closely. But, he hadn't and so it had.

Relief was the next thing he sensed, jarring him from his self-hatred. _When did she leave the room? When did my mind lose focus on her whereabouts? Oops. Full bladder. Probably shouldn't stay for this bit._

He respectfully retreated a little, just outside the scope of detailed thoughts.

Anticipation. _Of?_

Expectation. _For?_

Relief. Again. _Oh! She's… she's… _

Delight. _Bathing. Oh dear sweet Salazar. She's naked right now. _

_You lecherous old man. STOP IT! STOP IT NOW! _Severus scolded himself. _You are old enough to be her father, this is ridiculous. This stupid fascination, this insane desire for her has to stop. It's temporary, it's only because she saved your life, it's because she's a vibrant young thing that showed a little affection. Her feelings are fuelled by adrenaline and misplaced guilt for not knowing you were trying to save Potter all along. Her feelings will fade, as will these desires…_ he rationalised.

It took a great amount of effort and steeled conviction but he managed to just about hurl himself, forcefully from her mind and back into his own body. Unfortunately, that body had chosen not to listen to the rationalisations of his mind and was sporting possibly the most devastatingly painful erection Severus had ever experienced. He cringed at the betrayal of the engorged appendage. _You are disgusting, man. Think of something else, anything else, NOW!_

_Minerva in a showgirl costume, doing the can-can, in stockings… Oh dear Gods, that really should've worked. Ok, think…_

_Dolores Umbridge in a pink frilly negligee… _

_Giving Albus head… _Severus gagged but his cock annoyingly didn't seem to mind such a mental image; it remained hard and continued to pulse, much to its owner's chagrin.

_Voldemort doing the can-can - in nothing but stockings…_ More gagging but… _Finally!_

Severus's relief and disgust at the mental image he had just conjured was short lived and just as his turgid member was reaching half-mast, he heard its siren call - a soft moan echoing from the bathroom and assaulting his ears. _Ensnaring the senses indeed, Miss Granger._

He fought the increasingly desperate urge to take himself in hand, to do as she was doing and relieve himself in the most self-abusing way. He fought it like the skilled occlumens he was, he fought it with the motivation of thinking himself better than such debasement and he was succeeding… one minute, two… attempting to block her sweet breathlessness and endearing proclamations to Merlin and the Gods. _Yes! I am a master of my body once more, I shall not give in to such baser instincts. I am in con-…_

"_Oh! Oh, Severus…"_

Any level of control he had gained over his needs and desires snapped with a vengeance at the sound of her mewling utterance of his name. He was gone; any and all protests vanquished with her single exclamation of ecstasy. His slowly descending cock soared back into life at the sound and within seconds his hands had reached under his robes, into his waistband to the exultant joy of the solid mass of flesh his Gryffindor witch had inspired.

He couldn't risk her finding him in such a state, _although she probably wouldn't mind; _he kept his trousers fixed, which limited his movement but he had been doing this for twenty-five years, he knew how to work around such restrictions. He grasped his cock tightly and pumped himself fast and hard, imagining her own movements between her silken folds. He pictured her dusty pink nipples tightening with the arousal he caused her as he licked them, pinched and nipped at their delicious little pebbled points. Oh, how he wanted her…

'_Yes… oh, yes, Severus, right there…don't stop, Professor, please. '_

Her thoughts of begging him for orgasm had come to him unbidden. He wasn't in her mind. She had thrown those words, those adorable, sexy as hell pleas to him – knowingly or not he was unaware but it was undoing. His grasp tightened further on his seconds from climax length and with two more successive pumps, he thrust into his own hand and came with a growl which to his credit was a mere hairs breadth from silent.

His return - from the ecstatic, stratospheric high her begging had catapulted him into – was welcomed by the sound of Hermione's own transcendent release. A long, loud feral scream shuddered through the shack and echoed in Severus's chest. It was beyond simple physical pleasure, beyond the releasing act of gratifying a frustration; it was her letting go of the past, the relief of surviving the war, shedding the fear and despair of the last year – it was amazing, it was primal, it was everything. She was everything. Severus's heart sank – _I'm doomed._

After a moment to recover himself a little more fully, the sound of her pleasure still ringing in his ears, longer after the reality of it had subsided, Severus cleaned himself up wandlessly and retired back to 'position' so the approaching witch would be non-the-wiser about his activities or eavesdropping – not that he could have possibly not heard her.

He felt the bed sink beside him and her thoughts were so clear now she was so near, he really didn't have a need for legillemency, her mind was an open book.

'_Not sure I could quite explain away getting myself off in the next room whilst he was asleep'_

He delves just a little, to her deeper thoughts.

'_Most intense orgasm of my life, practically like having three at once, and I was thinking about Professor Snape – insane'._

Smugness tickled his consciousness. Something he wasn't used to when it came to the sexuality of witches but that smugness was about to be overwritten…

"_And as for you,"_ he felt her shift, turning toward him, he assumed, _"you listen to me, Severus Snape; you are going to love me, I assure you that you have no choice in the matter because I refuse to allow you not to. But more importantly, and I hope you can hear this, I am going to love you like no-one has ever loved anyone before; there will be books written about the power of my love, our love; and if no-one else writes books about how much I want you, about how I survived fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement and saved your horrible little godson just for you, then I will write it myself. 'Of Sneers and Stalking in Billowing Robes', a love story by Hermione Granger." _

She chuckled then; a beautiful sound of mirth and self-congratulation. He was enjoying her little speech, savouring her declarations and promises… _what could possibly have brought all these feelings out in her? She certainly never felt this way in my classes, did she? No! Surely, I'd have felt it; the woman is incapable of hiding an emotion or a thought. Could she be under this tainted magic of Merlin's too? What if she drank that infernal water too? It would explain how amazing she looks after months on the run. It's time. I'm awake and mobile… I should just ask her…_

As his eyes twitched, about to open, she continued…

"_I know you're going to try and push me away; you'll snipe, and sneer and spew your venom; you'll insult me and belittle me and call me an insufferable little know-it-all; I don't care. You can throw as much of your poison at me as you like, and when you're done and when you're ready, I'll be waiting. Not for an apology because I know you need to get all that nasty shit out of your system. I'll be waiting to welcome you into my heart, into my arms, into my bed because there's something you still don't know… in my mind, and in my heart, you're already there."_

Snape was in shock. He'd suspected, he'd assumed that her feelings were temporary, a juvenile crush, a young woman's first flirtation in deeper feelings perhaps but never, in all his years and experience had he expected those words. Her complete acceptance of his darker tendencies, a mature approach to wanting him, waiting for him, allowing him time to be at her level of emotions on his own terms. It was overwhelming. It was too much. He wanted to cry with joy at the possibility to she offered and hang his head in shame for doubting her.

She was moving away again and he guessed that her little speech was over. He hated it when she moved away from him but he tried to assume there was a good reason, even if his instinct was to doubt it.

He heard rummaging – _her handbag?_ Then something thrown on the bed near him.

"_No-one should sleep in boots, Professor."_ She stated cheerily as she set about removing them. _Careful Miss Granger, please be careful. My feet are very ticklish. I doubt the resulting involuntary kick to the face you might inspire with such a sensation would not be welcome. _

Moments later his boots were removed but her mind was thinking loudly again…

'_Hmmm, big feet. I wonder if that saying is true about big feet meaning big… stop it Hermione. You're better than that'._

'_No I'm not.'_

Knowing she was at the other end of the bed and could not see his face, Severus allowed his eyebrows to raise at her thoughts. It had been too many hours since he had used his signature expression and he missed it, especially with how many times Hermione Granger's thoughts and words had warranted such a face.

He felt a ripple of magic beneath him, then around him; he was in mid-air – he forced himself to trust her and was rewarded by being lowered gently back down and covered by the duvet. He wasn't cold at all but he had been unable to get himself under the duvet without giving away his consciousness.

She was thinking again…

'_Now, do I walk all the way around this huge bed in my very exhausted state or do I just climb over him to get to my side. Hmmmm, choices, choices.'_

_Why you little minx…_

He felt her clambering near him, shifting her knees and then she stopped, straddling his thighs…

_Oh this can't end well…_ he thought as his cock twitched again at the weight of her resting her bottom on his legs.

'_Making a memory'_ he heard the words from her mind, _'just in case I never get him to…'_

Then the pressure on his legs was gone – he missed it – and the space beside him dipped slightly from her presence and the pop of a plastic container could be heard very nearby. Followed moments later by the crunching of cookies.

Within ten minutes, the crunching had ceased. She had turned herself towards his body as he lay on his back, placed her head on his chest and his arm resting down her back.

Another ten minutes and she was sleeping, breath warm on his chest through his robes.

Severus Snape had never felt happier or more content in his life. He joined her in sleep, willingly.


	9. Chapter 9 - TLC

Chapter 9 – T.L.C.

Severus lay awake for a long time listening to the soft, even breathing of the young witch curled up, sleeping beside him. He doubted he had ever felt more at peace with another person, let alone someone clinging to him so sweetly, as if they were already lovers. _She did say she'd welcome me into her heart, into her arms and her bed. It seems she was quite serious about her declaration._

He waited for over an hour to be sure she was not going to wake, before wandlessly removing her from her cuddled-in position and gently turning her to face away from him in the middle of the bed and hovering her just a few inches over the mattress. _I must remember to thank Filius for the invention of Wingardium Leviosa, _he thought as he shifted his own body towards her and brought her down to rest in the curve he made with his torso and lap, effectively spooning her with one arm resting under the curve of her waist and the other draping over her ribcage. _Oh, Merlin help me, she smells like Aphrodite herself. _He gently swept her hair to the side and admired the delicate curve of her neck. _So beautiful._

Again, he really couldn't stop himself, wasn't sure he'd try if he could. She was just too damn tempting. He was careful in his movements, he knew he had to be delicate with her, not do anything too untoward; he feared he had already pushed that boundary too far as it was. But she was just so close, smelled so intoxicating and that curve at the side of her neck, where it swooped around to face him was just more than he could resist. He leaned in and placed the softest of kisses to the delectable little arc he was focused on… she shivered. _So responsive._ His cock stirred at her reaction and he pulled her close, the hand draped over her ribcage _slipping_ upward, _completely by accident_ to rest between her breasts. _Magnificent!_

Severus shifted and shuffled behind her, adjusting his weight and angle slightly every couple of minutes until he finally found a comfortable position where the dull ache in his groin was minimal enough that he could maybe, just maybe, get some sleep. He squeezed his witch as tightly as he dared and savoured the feel of her sleight frame pressed against him and how every time his breath caressed a spot on her neck, she unconsciously shivered a little a wriggled against him. It was heavenly.

From the moment he wrapped his arm around the object of his newly discovered fantasies – courtesy of the witch herself – Severus Snape was in hell. Feeling Hermione Granger nestled warmly into his body was not, it seemed conducive to a good night's sleep; nor was it conducive to keeping a thousand or scenarios from tumbling through his mind of delicious ways to wake the little minx. Every time his breath caught a particularly sensitive spot on her neck, she gave the sweetest little sigh, shivered and wriggled her perfect little arse against the desperate arousal he was incapable of relieving. It was the worst kind of torture imaginable – painfully delicious and with no way out. Yes, Severus Snape was in hell, it was all the fault of Hermione Granger and her bottom and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

_Oh thank fuck, she's moving. One more little wriggle and I'll come in my robes. Again_

Alas, her movement was minimal and Severus was hard pressed to know what to do. At first he had endured her absent-minded sadism admirably; enjoyed it even. Occlumency had helped immensely with shielding his mind from his fire in his veins, the surges in his groin, the quickening of his breath and heart; he had focused so intently though, and for so long, that his mind had grown weary as her seductive onslaught had continued. Eventually, occlumency had failed him, for the first time in his life, and he allowed the resignation to sweep through him that even if he could bring himself to move away from her, to shift to the other side and untangle their bodies, he really didn't want to; he was just going to have to put up with it.

With her small and half-hearted attempts at movement becoming more regular, more bold, he grew both fearful and anticipatory of their embrace ending. He had convinced himself she would feel the evidence of his arousal, _how could she not?_ The proof that he had been driven half mad with his self-induced desire and her subtle grinding and wriggling throughout the night was resting against the small of her back; and as he lay there, incapable to rational thought, he convinced himself she would be disgusted by his lack of control, despite her fantasies.

"_Oh!" _she squeaked and Severus had to constrict his throat to keep from groaning in both pleasure and mortification as she stilled completely, frozen against him. Her next movement was so utterly and unashamedly deliberate though, it wiped the self-deprecation and mortification clear from his mind. She decidedly pushed her perfect derriere upward and back, manipulating the solid bulge in his boxers from her back to between her legs, against her heated core. He moved with her as if pushed and that was the moment he noticed; his cock wasn't being constrained by a placket as it should be, but pushing his silken underwear to tent directly against silken slit, he could feel her moist heat against the silk that separated their intimacy. One of them, he wasn't sure which, had conjured this feat with accidental magic.

He could feel her attempting to manoeuvre herself from his grip and as much as he had been praying for the relief of her extricating herself, he found he couldn't bear to let her go. Again her bottom shifted, sliding herself against him and the control he had stoically maintained on his vocal chords slipped, emitting a low groan from the sensation. In panic, fearing his wakefulness was discovered, his grip tightened around her and her whole body stiffed against him.

"_I'm sorry"_ Hermione whimpered, clearly fearful he was angry at being found in such a state._ "I couldn't help it."_

_She's sorry? She couldn't help it? Oh Merlin, the girl things I'm angry with her. Now I definitely can't move… if she finds out I've been awake the whole times and able to move, she'll hex me to Kingdom Come. I'm really not prepared for the full force of fierce-Granger, I'm only just getting used to dulled and mental images of horny-Granger._

His only option really was to sense her emotions, maybe her thoughts too. He had a filter for his empathic senses and he had had to keep it decidedly switched off throughout the night, lest she was dreaming of him and he had to deal with her arousal plaguing his groin as well as his own. Now, though, he needed it to plan his next move, he held his breath and slipped the mental shield that held his empathic abilities away…

She was a ball of tension, sexual and – _oops, _he cringed – urinary. _I'm keeping her from using the facilities; well now I just feel awful. Although, after the state she's had me in all night, perhaps this is just a little pay back; karma coming back to bite her on that delectable, peachy backside._ He smirked to himself.

_There's nothing for it. I must ascertain her thinking to determine my next move. _

He entered her mind gently, pushing into her thoughts with no resistance; there was no sign of her occlumency space, just the sound of her disembodied voice, eternally thinking…

_Oh that groan he made. It was so good. So him. I almost came on the spot. He's so fucking sexy. I never want to move from this spot. Do I get him to groan again? He's so tightly wound, it has to have been an accident or because he's more relaxed asleep. It's worth it, even if it wakes him. Gods the things his voice does to me. It's too risky though, surely. Think sensibly Hermione. You're bladder is ready to burst and if you move, if the vibration of that climax-inducing rumbly groan echoes in just a certain way, you might set it off. Hearing that is not worth peeing on him. Now, what do I need to get out of this little predicament?_

Snape had never imagined her need for him would run so deep, that her desire was hinged on a simple groan of please; so much so that she would risk rupturing her bladder. _Perhaps,_ he thought, _if she is so completely enamoured with me, I could get away with having hidden my awakened status. _

'_My wand. I need my wand. Where the fuck did I leave it?_

'_Bollocks! It's on the floor. There's no way I can reach it, with this yummy entanglement of limbs we're in, I've got no chance. I wonder if he pulled me to him in the night or if I shuffled towards him? Better if he pulled me over, dragged me into him_._ Mmmm, what a gorgeous thought; I bet he's possessive like that.' _She shivered.

Snape reeled as Hermione continued to let her thoughts run away with her.

'_Focus Hermione. Right. Wandless Accio?_ _I've done it before, once, on adrenaline. I really don't have the concentration for it with 'that', there…_

_She's thinking about my dick. Again. This witch is insatiable_.

'_Snape!' _Her mind suddenly screamed his name with a solution._ 'He's amazing at wandless magic. Maybe I could use his magic to summon my wand…'_

He felt her hand cover his own where it sat between her breast. _Wow, she really doesn't mind that I'm pawing her._

"_Accio wand._" She whispered.

_That'll be my wand on its way then. My magic will call to my wand, even with her voice it won't call for a wand it's never touched, not without Expelliarmus._

She shivered again and he groaned to himself. _Granted,_ he thought, _she is extraordinarily responsive but my response to her, it's unnerving_. _Is it my wand she's reacting to? Trapped between my magic and that of my wand, that would make anyone shiver._

'_Oh what a beautiful wand." _Snape heard in her mind as she admired the channel for his magic._ Ebony? Too obvious; well, maybe ebony or… No! This isn't ebony at all, its blackthorn. Typical! Ogham tree to represent the dark half of the year. What are those decorative bands?'_

_This will be interesting. Despite her 'O' in Herbology, Pomona always said Hermione was never a great fan of the subject. I wonder if she'll know them._

He waited.

'_Ooooo, belladonna_ – _beautiful and poisonous, how fitting,'_

_Charming!_

'_Awww, a daisy chain_ – _delicate, youthful, unbelievably whimsical, considering who this wand belongs to,'_

_Lily!_

'A_ Russian vine_? _Tough, durable, fast growing – the wood of my wand. How very interesting.'_

_Very interesting indeed._

'_Surely that's symbolic that we belong together. Symbols of each other's wand materials sometimes magically appear when one is romantically attached to their… oh fuck! That book I read… just before Christmas, the one about soul connections and old magic and binding loves. But that means… No. Wand branding was really rare; I remember that bit. I need to remember. Why? Why are wand brandings so rare? Was it about past loves? No! No, it was past lifetimes. Wand branding is incredibly rare because it only occurs if the pair has been romantically involved in more than three previous lifetimes.' _

Severus felt the need to withdraw from his mind; her fast process of analysing what she knew was an aphrodisiac and the subject left his heart buoyant but his mind in a very acute state of fear.

'_Yet more proof that I belong with Severus Snape; this is so weird.'_

_More proof? Is this not the first proof?_

He was just preparing himself to remove himself from her surfaced thoughts when he experience a flash of white light, a whirl of colour and he found himself in her occluded space. The desk still sat open on the desk before him but the contents of the room had improved immeasurably. It was now, as he had originally suspected, a library. Turning to see the rest of the room, he caught four neat rows of book shelves, full of tomes. He itched to see them but there was movement to the left of him; a russet, high backed, leather armchair appeared and Hermione Granger was sitting in it, her nose in a book. He smiled to himself…_ somethings never change. How could her mind ever be anything else?_ She began reading aloud…

'_The soulmate connection of the two wands, especially when they are inscribed with the botanical of its partner, allows each witch or wizard of the relationship to use the others wand as easily and effortlessly as if using their own, albeit with a more than insignificant level of arousal at the time of use. Using the wand of your soulmate is an extremely intimate undertaking and at a time when old magic was at its peak, was used as the first act of binding in the ancient hand-fasting ritual: The _'Nodum erit aeterni delicti' _ceremony; otherwise known as The Knot of Eternal Damnation.'_

Severus's fear grew exponentially as she continued.

'_Two souls bound by this ceremony are fated to fall in love lifetime after lifetime; souls entwined by magic, the status of soulmates determined by the first time the ceremony is performed. If 'The Nodum erit aeterni delicti' is only performed between the same two souls in one lifetime, the magic can be undone by performing the ritual with another; however, if it is performed by the same two souls in two sequential lifetimes, it is sealed by its namesake, for eternity.'_

The library and the apparition of Miss Granger faded back to black and Severus was returned to her surface thoughts…

'_Could Snape and I have been bound by this ceremony more than once? What if we are? What if I'm eternally damned to be with him, in however many incarnations, until the end of time? Is it damnation? Maybe. If he never stops thinking of me as some insufferable know-it-all, little girl. That's already getting old and this is literally forever. Bladder, shut the fuck up, I know you're full but I can't do anything about that right now. Trust me, I'm working on it. Right, mind over matter. My brain controls everything, right? Convince my brain I'm not about to piss myself all over the love of my life._

Snape lost his breath releasing a silent but completely unrestrainable laugh. At just that second, she took the longest, deepest breath of her life as she created a mental mantra.

'_I don't have to pee, I don't have to pee. I don't have to pee. Fuck, it's not working. Stupid fucking meditation gurus. I need to see my wand… NOW!_

'_SNAPE, MOVE!' _

Unable to disobey her, due to other undiscovered magics working through their bodies, Snape felt himself edge away from her slightly before his arm - which had still been draped over her - flung itself away and he landed flat on his back with a forceful thud. Hermione was off the bed and running to the bathroom before he had regained his senses. Thankfully, his mind went with her.

Ignoring the relief that spread through her as she relieved her bladder, Snape focused on her thoughts that focused on her wand. _She must be studying it very closely._

'_What is that? It's burned into the wood. Fruit of some sort. It's been there since my first day of lessons at school. Is it not something to do with Gryffindor? I just assumed. Is that… is it shrivelfigs?_

Snape realised the significance before Hermione as he lay on the bed, rubbing at his still painful erection.

'_Oh fuck! Shrivelfig! The magical name for sloe fruit. And sloe is the fruit of…_

Her pausing in her thoughts, hesitating in even allowing her mind to admit the truth confirmed Snape's suspicions.

'_The fruit of the Blackthorn.'_

_Well, that does it. Those symbols would not be present as a full band of adornment of both wands if the bonding had not taken place for the required two sequential lifetimes. It is a marriage of magics and the bands are as wedding rings. My soul is bound to Miss Granger's. _

He allowed himself to be logical while he awaited her return.

_She is intelligent, that is essential and thankfully she has a passion for quietness, learning, research, oh and that intolerable Gryffindor need for adventure. Maybe I can shag that out of her? Give her the adventure of her life, never letting her out of bed._

_She is bloody gorgeous. How the fuck did I get so lucky? She deserves better but it's not like it's my fault she's tied to me – at least not in this lifetime._

The mental debate between his desires, logic and self-loathing continued while Hermione stayed in the bathroom. He could sense her back and forth too, having withdrawn from her mind to give her privacy and focus on his own thoughts for a while, which is why, twenty minutes after her disappearance, he was so shocked to find himself being thrown one of her mental offerings without prompt or searching…

'_Yikes! Oh, who can count all the things he is, was or ever could be? At least this is something he can't refute; we're magically bound for the ages, by destiny and fate, by old magic. You don't stand a chance now Snape! You're mine. End of.'_

_Hmmm, possessive little thing, _he thought as he heard her returning. _Very nice!_

It took literally ten minutes until she was back on the bed, having summoned parchment, quills and ink from her beaded bag - _that thing must weight a ton_ – flopping herself on her front, her toes just catching in his loose hair and making a list… Snape listened in…

'_Contact Harry – patronus; potions for Severus – via Madam Pomfrey…'_

_She's calling me Severus now? Cheeky little witch._

'_Eat something. Meet Harry for potions. Attempt to wake Severus?'_

_I wonder how she'll do that._

'_Read that book again. Ancient Proclivities of Ceremonial Enchantments'_

_Where on earth did she find that book? It's not even in the restricted section._

'_And Severus needs some sort of wash…'_

_Where is she going with this?_

'_A sponge bath?' _She giggled.

_Yes! Yes, dear girl. A sponge bath would do nicely. Let you see what you've done to me, you little vixen. And the perfect opportunity for me to get a hold of you too._

"_Time to get this show on the road. And almost time to get you up, about and moving, sleeping beaut__y. Don't think I'm letting you laze around in bed all the time while I do all the work."_

_Perish the thought. _He mused to himself as she laughed.

"_Although the lack of sneering and sniping is rather pleasant. You should definitely tone that down in future. I'll let you keep the billowing robes though. They're rather sexy."_

_Oh really? I shall keep that in mind, witch._

She was up and about again. _Gods, does she never sit still?_

He listened intently, skirting on the edge of her mind as she cast her patronus to message Potter…

'_a lioness? Hmmm… contemplate later, message now.'_

_Her patronus is a lioness. Unsurprising. I wonder what it was before._

"_Hello lovely. Please take this message to Harry Potter ok? _

_Snape and I are both safe. He needs sustenance though and so do I. Please get some meal replacement potions for him from Madam Pomfrey; oh and some vitamin ones too. He's still unconscious and I have to get nourishment into him somehow. I'll have whatever you can rustle out of Molly or the house elves. Meet me in an hour outside the Hogwarts wards; I'm assuming they've been enabled again. Oh, oh and some towels, transfiguring a pebble makes for very rough fabric. Love to everyone, see you soon."_

She was pacing, he could hear it as Potter's voice echoed through the small room…

"_Everyone is fine. Paperwork is going through to get Snape pardoned, should only take a few days. Best to keep him where he is until it's all settled. Guess you're playing warden, nursemaid and guardian angel for a bit longer. I'm in the hospital wing now, I'd only just left after checking on Lavender; she was attacked by Greyback. Madam Pomfrey is sorting out your supplies; ironically Snape brewed them himself. McGonagall is insisting on coming with me to see you so be prepared. See you in a bit."_

_Ah yes, my potions. At least I know they will be of impeccable…_

Snape's thought was cut off as she lay back down; she resumed the position of laying on her front but leaned back to place his hand on her thigh. She shivered at the feel and oh how the feel of her soft, creamy flesh burned his palm and fingertips. She lay reading like that for over forty minutes and he listened contentedly as she read the Ceremonial Enchantments book aloud, only dipping into her mind every five minutes or so to relive her wish of his hand to move up her thigh.

There was a shuffling from near his feet, followed by her swinging away from him.

"_I'm going to get supplies, sir. I won't be long."_

He was just about to debate whether or not to be awake when she returned but was saved the trouble by her kissing him, square on the lips and turning away to hurry down the corridor. It had been a gentle kiss, tentative; as if the desire to do was held back a little by her nervousness that he would push her away. _Not a chance I would, _he thought as his mind followed her out towards the wards she had placed.

'_I hate how much he suddenly makes me blush. I didn't even get this pink when I was fantasising about him bending me over my work bench in potions, my face pushed into a cauldron or Amortensia, his hands gripping my hips, him, thrusting.'_

Snape spluttered to himself in bed.

'_Focus Hermione. Harry can't see me all flustered and flushed. He knows what I'm like when I'm thinking about shagging. It's how I ended up shagging him. Yeah, let's not go there.'_

Unexpected jealousy rose in him as he heard that last little bit of information. _It seems she is no longer interesting in The-Boy-Who-Lived, Twice apparently. Still… need to keep an eye on that if she is truly to be mine._

As she left the wards to disapparate, Severus Snape finally opened his eyes.

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm mean – no sponge bath yet, you're probably all going to hate me for a further delay. I promise it is on its way but I'm channelling my inner Slytherin - for Severus. The second reason is that chapter 5 was too long for all of Snape's point of view in one chapter. This seemed like a nice resting point for the end of Chapter 9 and we will pick back up with our dark Sleeping Beauty soon – hehe.**

**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. I am so grateful. I am posting this just before I head to work so have finished it up quicker than planned. I will re-read and edit to night if need be – please ignore spelling and grammar issues, they will be fixed.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Twice Cursed

Chapter 10 – Twice Cursed

"Finally," Severus said aloud as he sat up and swung his legs around to the side. "That girl has entirely too much hold over my libido." He continued to himself.

_How am I ever going to gain enough control to not be a blithering idiot around her when she grinds against me like that. And her constant little touches and kisses. I'm a fucking goner. Longbottom is more competent with a cauldron than I am at resisting her advances._

He made his way to the bathroom, feeling irritated with himself and in desperate need of bladder relief as he struggled to tame his erection for the task while wandlessly transfiguring the bath tub back to the useful facility of a toilet. Ten minutes later, after a mildly successful attempt at merging two lanes of traffic into one - _certainly exceeded expectations_, he praised himself - Severus was desperate to the then transfigure it into a shower and feel freshened but with Hermione's promise of a sponge bath, he reluctantly settled for a light cleansing charm, followed by a deodorising potion he had concealed in his robes.

_My robes… hmmm, considering her distaste for buttons, perhaps I should make preparations for her to cleanse my body less taxing; just a small wave here and…_

Returning to 'their bedroom' as he had unconsciously dubbed it, Severus looked down at his thick black tunic; thirty buttons lined the right side of the front panel, securing it to panel below. Another wave of his hand vanished two thirds of the obsidian fastenings and spaced out the remainder. _There, that should speed up the fun. Honestly, my wand is closer to an accessory rather than a tool at this point._ _I really am very good at magic. _He thought, allowing his long-thought-dead-pride to breathe.

He paced the room, mindful of how walking felt like such a luxury considering he was unexpectedly alive and had temporary freedom from Miss Granger's presence. Circling the room for nigh on ten minutes, he focused on completing the task of dousing his arousal before he glanced back at the bed.

_She's left the book. Could she know I am conscious? Perhaps she left it for my perusal. Nothing in her mind, words or other actions would suggest such. _

He crossed to the bed, in three strides; robes billowing out - _Oh, how I've missed the billowing these last two days. It is not the same without a fearful audience but it does make me feel better. And apparently, it is… sexy! – _and picked up the book to examine it.

"Ancient Proclivities of Ceremonial Enchantments; by… _Rowena Ravenclaw?_"

_I never thought to consider the author, or remember whom she was. I haven't studied this since my NEWTs. Of course, she was considered the most advanced researcher of magical lore of her age but to have discovered the soul connection relating to wand materials and adornments is astonishing._

Fast reader as he was, he flipped through the pages in a matter of minutes.

_It seems there is nothing to be done but accept what the fates have deemed correct. Miss Granger and I, soulmates; Hermione and I, lovers…_

He took a deep breath before allowing his next thought…

_Mr and Mrs Snape; Mr and Mrs Severus Snape; Mrs Hermione Snape - it does have a certain ring to it I suppose. And what of the other connection… the water infused with Merlin's tainted magic? Merlin's magic was cursed by Morgana Le Fey; a punishment for his meddling in her love life, magically keeping her from Arthur's bed._

_It was a curse that affected two people connected by a soul-mate bond. If Merlin's magic touched both individuals in any way, they were condemned to… "the sopophorus bean is practically alive and tries to jump away from the blade when trying to escape its own death; don't let it know the blade is coming. Crush don't cut…"_

_Stupid fucking sopophorus bean. Think Severus, think… The first of the bonded souls to encounter the tainted magic had the ability to… to… to wield their will over the second. It's the… Oh fuck, it's the soul mate curse._

"I'm under the FUCKING SOUL MATE CURSE!" he bellowed into the empty room, so powerfully the wards rippled; at least that's what he thought made the wards ripple.

'…_maybe she's just biding her time_. _It's not like she could force the fidelius secret out of me. Well, at least I can do as I please with him for now… '_

Hermione's thoughts echoed in his mind, getting louder as she approached.

His eyebrow shot up in amusement at her thoughts, and expectation that she would follow through on the idea of 'anything' even as he dived onto the bed, replacing the book on the corner where he found it and settled himself back into 'position'. Just as the door opened, Severus closed his eyes.

'_If 'anything I please' is not going a little too far? _

_It isn't little witch._

'_Oh Gods, Hermione, STOP! This is Severus Snape we're talking about.'_

_It is indeed. Such a dirty minded thing you are, lusting over your Professor. _

'_He's already going to kill me for the cuddling this morning. Pull yourself together.'_

_Don't be so sure little witch. It has been too long since I cuddled. If it wasn't for all that incessant grinding against my supposed unconscious state, it would have been far less torturous._

'_When he wakes up, you're going to need to 'imperious' him to get what you want.'_

_That will not be necessary, I assure you, Miss Granger. Although, I highly doubt your good heart would allow you do such a thing; not that I would be susceptible if you tried._

He heard her rummaging and then an adorable gurgling sound.

'_I'm not even going to think about Harry's reaction – he actually turned green; at least he didn't have a fit.'_

_Did she tell the boy of her feelings for me? Of the soul connection? Surely not. He may be a friend but as someone who she has been… _his mind convulsed in disgust… _intimate with, he would hardly want to know. _She sighed.

'_That boy and his anger; although I suppose he has a lot less to be angry about now.'_

_We all do, thanks to your brilliant mind… Hermione. Oooo, something smells good. Is that Italian?_

'_What was that warming charm again? Dammit! I hate it when I'm proven wrong. Hmmm, Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three. At least I was right to always carry all my books with me._'

Severus smirked to himself. _My little know-it-all, the crux of her knowledge is a metric ton of books in a bag only eight inches long._

"Accio, Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three," she cast, dejectedly.

"At least no one is around to notice my momentary lack of academic prowess." His witch muttered before shifting as if turning toward him.

"Except for you, of course. Technically, I know you'll mock me for it if you're even remotely aware of what's going on but I refuse to take any of your shit anymore…"

_Is that so?_

"Because, you know what, I'm human, I'm hungry and I've just been through a war. I'm entitled to a mini-lapse in memory. I'd have remembered eventually, I'm just starving."

_You eat up little witch. And save me some. Mmmmm, Italian._

As if in reply, Severus's stomach rumbled his own hunger at the scent.

"Oh shit, I really should feed you first. At least I got cookies last night. Although you had your hands all over my cookies this morning, didn't you? Dirty old man."

_If I could show it, Hermione, I would smirk at that. Dirty old man, indeed. You were the one grinding all over my morning lack of bodily control._

'_Right, potions.'_

_Here we go. Faux food and thought invasion. She'll have me as naked as the day I was born in an hour._

He entered her mind as she read the letter…

'_Miss Granger, dear,_

_I do hope you are taking good care of our darling Severus and he isn't giving you any trouble.' _

_Darling Severus indeed_ – he scoffed, internally. _It really didn't take long to get Poppy back on side._

'_Minerva says he's still unconscious so that must be quite the blessing for you.' _

_I sincerely doubt that Poppy, considering my little witch is an insatiable minx who won't be satisfied until she's ridden me into oblivion._

'_Now, as you are stubbornly keeping everyone away from him…'_

_Keeping me all to yourself, are you my delectable little minx. How adorably possessive of you?_

'… _and I cannot assess his vitals in person please follow the first set of instructions about collecting information on his condition before proceeding to give him sustenance.'_

A rustling of papers and Hermione's mind focused once more on the words in front of her.

'_Have a parchment ready to receive the data you are about to collect._

_Cast the diagnostic spell 'notitia muneris' at Severus directly. It readies the body and the wand for the next set of charms._

_Place the tip of your wand at the pulse point of his right wrist and draw three small circles there whilst reciting:_

'_Sanguis Revelio'_

'_Nervus Damnum'_

'_Cerebrum Munus'_

_These three medical detection charms will assess his blood, nerve system and brain function._

_Place the tip of the wand on the parchment and incant 'nullam notitia' to relinquish the results on to the parchment._

_As you have no owl, I will give you my spell to transfer medical documentation._

_Roll up the parchment and use a sticking spell to seal it, then use your wand once more and recite 'orci translatitio'; the parchment will glow blue and disappear from you, arriving in my magically sealed in-tray.'_

A wave of excitement rolled off of the witch at his side as she reached the end of her instructions.

"_Eeeeeeee," _the witch squealed, giving resonance to her excitement.

'_New spells; healer spells. Gods, I love new spells.'_

"The things I do for you, sir. Honestly."

_Don't fool yourself Hermione. You are evidently doing this for yourself and the prospect of new spells._

Severus lacked the worry he would have if it had been any other witch or wizard practicing an unknown spell on him but the diagnostic charms were non-invasive and she was a very brilliant witch.

Further rustling of parchments and he felt her magic surround him as she uttered the preparation spell: "notitia muneris". His right wrist tingled in anticipation of the touch of her wand as she took it in her hand. There was a deep breath by both parties, his just more stealthily inhaled, then he felt the light press of her wand tip against his skin and three small circles being drawn…

"Sanguis Revelio"

"Nervus Damnum"

"Cerebrum Munus"

Followed a moment later by, "nullam notitia", the rolling of parchment and a wordless sticking charm.

"Orci Translatitio"

A moment later and the witch was squealing in excitement again. He entered her mind again as she regained her equilibrium and focused on the next set of instructions.

'_Now dear, there are spells to control the limbs and sit Severus up so he could partake of that delicious looking lasagne from the house-elves – Italian food is his favourite, you know – but I fear for your safety if you did that to him so we shall proceed with the potions.'_

_No! No, no, no. I want the lasagne. Poppy, just wait till I get my wand on you; I'll have you cursed into next year for denying me the elves lasagne. Why didn't you tell her to just wake me?_

'_I will however allow you the spell to easily administer the potions without having to get to personal, for this part anyway.'_

_If only you knew Poppy. This witch can't wait to get personal with me._

'_The green potion is Revita-min: It will feed his body the much needed vitamins and minerals he needs. This needs to be given only once a day. In the morning is probably best.'_

_Ah yes, I brewed that last month. Should still be fresh._

'_The pink potion is the meal replacement you asked for. Full of protein, essentials fats and his other favourite flavour – strawberries. This should be administered twice a day but at least five hours apart.'_

_She must have brewed fresh in my absence or especially for me considering the strawberry flavouring. I suppose she is redeemed for denying me the lasagne. Hermione will save me some anyway._

'_The spell you need is: 'medicinales curas subire'. Place the potion, uncorked in his wand hand – right in Severus's case – and stand back before casting it. It has a stasis charm on it so it will not spill without contact to the recipient's lips.'_

_Oh, dear sweet Salazar; the witch is going to animate my 'prone form' as if I were a bloody inferi._

Severus relaxed his observance on Hermione's thoughts as she took a few deep breaths and steadied her nerves at the prospect of manoeuvring his body but returned to them as she read Poppy's instructions for his convalescence.

'_Hopefully this won't make you too squeamish sweetheart, after months on the run with those two boys but Severus needs to be kept clean and given exercises to avoid his muscles seizing up. It wouldn't happen for a while but as we do not know how long he will be unconscious, we need to take precautions.'_

_Never fear, Poppy. Hermione is a sinful seductress who will have no qualms about such things as rubbing me down or riding me back into consciousness._

'_You are likely to blush a lot during the cleaning process and you have every right to but do not let it put you off or distract you. You may wish to use a spell to clean him but hands on is more effective. I have included with your supplies a hypo-allergenic flannel and a delicate soap and shampoo – Severus has very sensitive skin and can't use anything too abrasive.'_

_Did you have to mention that Poppy? I expect such indiscretion from the students but not from the medi-witch. Dunderheaded Gossipy witch. And blush or not, I can't see anything putting my little Gryffindor off. Have you even met her? Insufferable in her determination._

'_As for the exercises, at this point you only need to make sure to bend his knees up to his chest at least five times each in turn, twist his neck from side to side at least three times a day and have his arms placed in different positions to keep his cramping at bay – the cramping is from a particularly nasty crucio from last year.'_

_Is nothing private, woman?_

'_I have deputised you as Severus's healer and guardian until he regains consciousness. Any problems please send me a patronus. _

_Good luck_

_Poppy Pomfrey_

_Hogwarts'_

_Well that would explain the indiscretion. Hermione Granger, quasi-healer._

A surge of confidence exploded from Hermione aimed directly at him and he was thrown from her mind as she began to speak to him.

"It's payback time Severus Snape. I've been deputised by Madam Pomfrey to look after you properly, as a healer. Which means I get to feed you, bathe you and generally do _almost_ whatever I want."

_Oh shit. _Severus thought, his stomach sinking at the idea of pay back for the last seven years of sneers, scowls and billowing robes. _Oh no, actually likes the billowing robes. Sneers, scowls and petty insults, then. _

A maniacal laugh escaped her lips; such was the state of her delirious glee.

_I'm starting to have doubts about your motivations witch._ A knot of unsuppressed nerves started to curl in his gut.

"Listen to that _Professor_, I practically cackled." _Dear Merlin, she sounds like she belongs in Slytherin. I'm starting to like this witch._ "You must be so proud, surely such a sound is worthy of any Slytherin, even you. Now, let's get these potions into you and then I need food before I expire. And after that…"

He felt her lean into him, her warm breath on his ear making him tense to supress a shiver as her voice lowered to a whisper, "you're getting a sponge bath."

Then her lips were on his skin. Just below his ear and… _is that her tongue. Oh Gods, preserve me_,he thought as her delicate tongue slid up the curve of his ear. He could not hold in the resulting shudder or prevent the roar of blood to his cock, which doubled at her next words.

"Mmmmm, I love the taste of Slytherin in the afternoon."

_Siren!_

He felt her withdraw, the loss of heat disappointing but forgotten with familiar sound of a phial being uncorked followed by the feeling of it being placed it in his right hand and his fingers being curled around it. He gripped lightly as she removed her hand to prevent it slipping. _Best get this part over with quickly. I want that sponge bath._

He heard her recite direct from the instructions:

"_Medicinales curas subire"_

She gasped at what the spell did.

He felt himself lurch forward, sitting bolt upright and had to struggle to keep him eyes closed from the rush of magic which urged his body to lift the phial to his lips and tip back his head; he swallowed. Thirty seconds later, the magic released and he felt himself collapse back to the bed, looking as soundly asleep as before with effort.

"Well, that was dramatic. One more and then you're on the back burner for half hour whilst I sort myself out."

_Does she mean food or…, Merlin, I don't think I could feign sleep if she did that out here._

Once more he heard the uncorking of a phial and felt it being placed in his right hand; the repeat of the animation spell and his surging forward to consume the strawberry flavoured potion.

_Mmmmmm, strawberry._

"Don't say I never do anything for you, Professor."

_Never, my little siren of seduction._

He heard the clinking of phials being tossed into a cavernous pit – _her bag – _and then a weight on the bed near him and a rustle of pages.

"Calora tri-gradus," she whispered, presumably at the elf-made lasagne. _Grrrrr!_

The sound of her eating filled the small room along with excruciating moans of appreciation which only amplified the ache in his groin. Just as it was once again becoming unbearable, Severus was distracted by her voice.

"Delicious! I do hope this means the house-elves have forgiven me for S.P.E.W."

He heard several deep breaths and an excited squeal from her mind.

"Okay. Well, I guess it's time."

There were several swishes of her wand as she wordlessly cast around for everything she needed and Severus prepared himself for the moment of truth.

_This witch is about to get quite a surprise. Grinding is one thing, sight is quite another. And the pretence is over. I will not allow her to leave me unsatisfied again._

He could feel her nervousness thanks to him empathic skills but she had a tight hold on them; her Gryffindor bravery winning out as she gave herself another pep-talk.

'_I have never backed away or cowed from Severus Snape and I'm not going to start now.'_

His mind registered three very deep breaths before he felt the bed sink under her delicate weight and she climbed up to straddle his hips.

'_Oh my, you are ready for this, aren't you sir?'_

_Brazen, wanton little…_

"Let's get you out of these robes, sir. It's time for your sponge bath."

_By all mean, witch; disrobe away._

'_Oh Merlin, what first… buttons. No, as satisfying as doing this by hand would be, I've waited long enough.'_

"Evanesco" he heard her say is a slightly quivering voice before a rush of cool air hit his entire body. "There, finally I get a good look at you without those endless bloody robes and buttons."

_Well, witch. What are you waiting for?_

"Oh my, but you are gorgeous. I never imagined… "

Fingertips, light as a feather, swirled uneven patterns in his coarse, black chest hair.

'_I have to… I just have to…'_

Seconds felt like hours as he felt her lean forward and place the ghost of a kiss where his chest hair was thickest.

_Oh Gods witch, you're trying to kill me. Did you save my life to torture me?_

'_Mmmmmm' _the only thought in her mind as she inhaled his scent.

Then she was pulling back again and he heard the swirl of water and the lathering of suds.

Hot, wet towelling fabric ran down his chest in a long sweeping movement, stopping just where the dark hair running from his navel hit the waistband of his boxers.

_She really is trying to kill me. _He struggled not to throw his head back as she tested her resolve and dipped the flannel beyond the elasticated prison of his throbbing erection.

She gasped as her fingers accidently grazed the engorged appendage.

'_Oh my God.'_

_Enough! I really can't take anymore. _

"Enough, witch" his voice gravelly; deep, rich and filled with the demand of his lust.

She squeaked in surprise and jumped to move from him in panic.

Severus was quicker.

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**A/N: Well, there we have it, I finally reached the sponge bath scene – not that I gave you much of it but, you know, Slytherin – hehe.**

**Favourite, Follow, review as you please. Reviews inspire me to write and I have been overwhelmed by the positive feedback to this story. Love to you all. Sevione forever.**


	11. Chapter 11 - Payback

**A/N: Thank you all for coming back to this story with me, although the cliffhanger I left for you, my lovely rabid readers, was somewhat designed in such a way to facilitate a return. I was actually reviewed as 'going full on DARK LORD' for creating the frozen moment of anticipation? Dread? Excitement? My Slytherin pride swelled and tingled at that. It was just such an amazing line to end on but we're back with our twice cursed soulmates to see if the sexual tension will actually be explosive for them. As I sit here, poised to write this chapter 11, I don't quite know where hands and voices are going to lead… I let characters guide me. Once more unto the Shrieking Shack, my loves…**

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Chapter 11 – Payback

The smirk was palpable. Large, pale hands, strong and unyielding, sunk into the fleshy expanse of Hermione's denim-clad hips where he gripped her, hard. Her breathing shallow with excitement, anticipation, her heart-racing from the shock, she was lost in turmoil as her emotions flared and swirled: panic at being caught in her _explorations_, the knuckles of her right hand precariously stilled against the hardened and impressive length of her ex-professors arousal. All too soon her own lust flooded through her that he wasn't, even in his wakened state, moving her hand away; his words had halted her ministrations but he had chosen to grab her and keep her fixed upon him; heat pooled low within at the hope that bloomed from his concise action. _Is this really happening?_

The frozen moment of time stretched on, he waiting for her reaction to his sudden demanding consciousness, to see if her admirable Gryffindor courage would rise to meet his challenge or flail in uncertainty; she warring with her mind as to her next move. One false move and she would lose him; an outcome she was not willing to face so she had to be clever; unfortunately, with his beautiful throbbing erection still present, her brain was not firing on all cylinders, if any.

Severus knew she was lost to the heady combination of fear and lust, he knew she had frozen in shock and disbelief; her stillness, her 'deer-caught-in-headlights' appearance was as much a reaction to his abrupt overtaking of the situation as it was the wave of emotions but he had opened the can of worms now and he could not act further until she did. It had become a game, his challenge, her choice but as the seconds ticked on in the silent tableau, he was growing restless and anxious. _A little push, perhaps…_

A slight tightening of his grip, after endless moments of doubt, snapped her head up; warm, chocolate/caramel eyes bright with lust met the fathomless depths of inky midnight and her fear left her as if a breeze of desire had swept through her emotions and simply carried it away. She was still nervous but it realisation overtook all other thoughts in her mind when those deliciously slim and talented pale white fingers had dug deeper into her. He was issuing her a challenge and ever the Gryffindor, fuelled by her own lust and nerve would rise to meet it admirably. She shut off her mind, choosing instinct over logic for a change; Hermione rolled her hips against the tops of his thighs where she sat as her knuckles pressed more firmly against his… _Slytherin pride._

He reacted instinctively, his body thrummed with the tension, as caught in the moment as she was; the strong grip he had on her hips proved the perfect position from which to move their coupling forward as he suddenly desired more than anything his broken life could offer him. He tugged; the desire and need within him fuelling the action more powerfully than intended. Her hips lurched forward as intended, bringing her heat to press firmly against his pulsing cock but it seemed the little minx had not anticipated the move, or the force behind it. A sweet exclamation of surprise left her throat and she fell forward.

Her usually quick reflexes, tired from the war, dulled by the lust over taking her, failed. As she helplessly descended toward the almost naked wizard before her, caramel eyes shifted from need to mortification at the realisation of what was about to happen and she scrunched them closed, bracing for impact.

The collision came sudden and hard, a slap of flesh-against-flesh, her tank top having ridden up during her earlier ministrations, an unbidden squeak of embarrassment escaped her throat and Snape smiled, out of her field of vision, at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

"Oops," he said in the lightest tones she'd ever heard him use.

Hermione had no idea what to do but something, some small part of her that usually lost the battle with logic was telling her to be herself. To react exactly as she would if this had happened with Harry or Ron, so she did…

A half-delirious laugh escaped her, it was wild and fraught, the only possible reaction to the insane prospect of body slamming Professor Snape in the act of trying to seduce him. Breathless from her fits of nervous mirth, she managed to gasp out… "I am blaming you entirely for killing the mood", as she brought herself back up to face him.

His face was not angry or blank as she had expected, but smirking, his liquid midnight eyes sparkling with amusement.

"_You_ would." He said simply.

"Then might you permit, sir," she began as she reluctantly removed her right hand from its new favourite place in his underwear, "for me to do this properly?"

She leaned forward, intentionally this time, placing a hand either side of his head and bringing their upper bodies and faces parallel.

"Propriety left this room, Miss Granger, when you took it upon yourself to debauch my person." He teased.

Hermione's face dropped a little at being chastised, her confidence beginning to wane but not sufficiently enough to silence her. She rallied her courage and tried again.

"It was meant with no malice, sir, I assure you." She took a deep breath. "This," she slowly rolled her hips against the incredible rigidity of his rock hard flesh, "is what I want. What I have wanted for a very," she rolled them again, adding more pressure to the grinding downward motion, "very long time."

His breath caught at the honesty of her sinful confession, and a surge of fresh desire coursed through his veins, adding a painful twinge to his already aching erection at her even more sinful grindings.

"I see. And what may I ask has inspired such want?" He asked; matching her tactic and thrusting his hips so his turgid cock pressed the seam of her denim shorts against her clit, at least that was his hope. Even through his lust, he was the calculating Slytherin and when Severus Snape wants answers, he gets them. His tactic worked and her head rolled back at the added pressure to the highly sensitive nub.

"Gods, you're a tease, Professor. I can't think like this."

Something feral flashed at the sound of his professional moniker but tamed it momentarily instead forcing acceptance of her inability to answer, presuming her overwhelmed by her desires being requited and his actions to support their coupling. _If she wants her 'Professor' back, she can have him._

"You are playing with fire, Miss Granger. And my patience is wearing thin."

His fingers released her hips and slid around her back before quick as a flash, he rolled them to the right, flipping her onto her back and towering over her, his hips cushioned by her thighs, the look in his eyes, expectant.

When he stilled the repositioning and looked at her, he was amazed at the sight. Her hair was wild, haloed around her heart shaped face, her eyes filled with a longing he'd never witnessed as aimed at himself and her lips, those sweet, plump, devilish lips were parted in invitation.

He closed his eyes, desperately seeking the control he needed to not give in and crush his lips to hers, to take her, claim her, as the twice damned affliction of being soul mates demanded. He needed his answers and she was at her least inhibited now, while her lust dominated her logic, to be _persuaded_ into relinquishing her knowledge.

"Answer my question, Miss Granger." He reminded, pressing his hips down at the apex of her thighs.

_Oh sweet Merlin, he's good at that. That angle is so – oh my god – it's so intense, too sensitive. Need to focus… he's speaking, I know he's speaking. I can't think about anything except that feeling. Oh Gods that voice…_ she thought as it echoed again, mixing with the pressure he exerted at her centre causing a hazy, heady unbidden moan to escape her.

"If I knew it was this easy to cease your insufferable enthusiasm for answering my questions, I may have started sooner." He teased, trying to bring her to some form of coherence. It failed; she was lost to sensation, to the timbre of his voice, to the exquisite throb he caused with the increased friction against her clit. She squirmed under his hips, desperate for more contact, she'd do anything.

"Need more…" she whimpered. "Pl-pl-please, Professor."

"Oh no, Miss Granger." He said, revelling in her breathlessness and sweet desperate begging as he stilled her endless writhing with one hand; it found her hip and pressed down hard, the other on the bed by her head, supporting his weight. "If you wish to continue receiving pleasure from me, then a bargain must be agreed."

He cast a wandless set of charms to secure her against the bed; her arms were thrown magically above her, overlapping so each hand gripped its opposite elbow and were unable to leave their position.

"I think that will do for now." He said, shifting himself away from her to stand at the end of the bed. He crossed his arms over his chest in the well-known posture of his intimidating, disapproving Professor stance – it lost a little of its edge without the robes. "You are to answer all questions I put to you. If your answers are satisfactory, you shall be rewarded. Do you accept?"

The loss of contact, at which she protested with a low growl of frustration, brought her slowly back to reluctant coherence as she took in her predicament. She blinked, a lot and caught his gaze, a gasp escaping her as she simultaneously fathomed the wicked predatory gleam in his lustful eyes and her own status as captive prey. Nerves prickled and danced in her belly; she might be willing prey for the unpredictable, dark man of her most hidden fantasies but having his undivided attention in such a vulnerable position was unnerving.

"This is the last time I shall repeat myself, Miss Granger. Do you accept?" Snape's voice had a little more edge to it than expected but she supposed he was dealing with his own lusts, if his still tented boxers were anything to go by and he never did seem to have much patience.

Tentatively, she nodded. _I intended to tell him most stuff anyway. At least this way, we get to really enjoy it._

"Given your current state of arousal and your position at my mercy, Miss Granger, I shall require verbal consent to continue." He said, voice husky with arousal and smooth as silk, enjoying himself immensely.

Her nodding became energetic, frantic in acceptance of his terms. "Yes sir, of course sir." The desire to impress a superior habitually taking over all other needs.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Very well." He jerked a nod of approval and cast a hand over her body. "Evanesco"

Hermione's clothing disappeared and the cool breeze danced over her skin as it had his. In response, Severus's eyes were treated to further tightening of caramel-colour nipples and a slight nervous flinch of her dampened sex. The kindness and modesty she had shown him of leaving his underwear in place was not returned.

"Now," he began, waving his hand over her again. "There are many things I would like to know about how we came to be in this situation. I could enter your mind of course but given we are to become more… intimate, that is considered bad form." _And you occlude so bloody well, I wouldn't get passed that infernal bloody library._

In the sweep of his magic her body shifted down the bed, bottom perched at the edge, legs dangling over the end from the knee, feet not quite touching the floor and arms still secured above her head.

She inhaled sharply at the speed of his descent with her repositioning. He dropped to his knees and out of her line of sight, kneeling before her mons as if she were to be worshiped. She could hear his breathing exaggerate, a deep scent-inhaling breath – seconds of torturous anticipation – her body clenching with need, knowing that she'd feel, actually feel when he released that breath.

Her scent was surely the temptation of the Gods, rivalled only by Aphrodite herself. He held the sweet honeyed aroma is his lungs, savouring it's presence within him. He forgot himself and his goal for endless moments, he could die a happy man enveloped in the perfume of her arousal; and considering it had been at best, two days, since he had been at deaths door that was saying something. It was a heady blend of senses which she had ensnared, the sight, the scent, and oh how he longed to touch, to taste… Unable to hold in the delicious scent any longer, he exhaled in a rush and repeated, trying to get himself under control.

Hot, moist air rushed to the glistening wet heat of her centre and she gasped at the powerful caress.

_Oh mercy. I swear if he doesn't touch me in the next five seconds, I'm going to the dark side. He'll pray for Tom Riddle's return. Grrrrr!_

"Please, sir. Please, please, touch me."

Knowing he was unable to refuse her request, given the magic of the soul-mate curse, he employed his Slytherin cunning to prolong her torturous wait. After all, she had kept him on the edge for hours, practically days; this was merely a little payback. He took a moment for him to decide how to proceed, he knew her rewards for well thought out responses would be his reward as much as hers but working around the magic of the curse, getting his own way and keeping her unaware of her power over him was going to take more focus than he currently had available.

Slowly, with a determination only possible via years of practiced self-control, he reached for her left ankle and lifted it to hold her open, admiring the the beautifully toned calf before his gaze traversed to the creamy skin of suspended thigh. She tensed at his touch, poised to explode at any possible contact his beautiful form graced her with – fingers, lips, tongue, anything, she would take anything and everything he gave her and love each exquisite, torturous, blissful second of his caresses. Her pelvis tilted upward in invitation to him as her position changed slightly and her mind screamed… _'Finally! You teasing Slytherin bastard. More! More! Please sir. I need more of you. Do something, anything. Touch me, kiss me. Pleeeeeeease!' _Her mind begged as her breathing shallowed with need.

_Your wish is my command, my wanton little witch but not quite in the way you want just yet._

He turned his face to the almost trembling flesh as it clenched under his perusal and slid his hand from her delicate ankle to the locked knee that held a beautifully long leg rigidly straight. He moved slowly, his thin lips parting in preparation as he connected with the open crease where glorious sex met soft, sensitive, toned thigh. The first brush of his lips on the overly-eager, stretched-to-breaking-point witch at his mercy, was gentle, barely a touch at all, but her reaction was not. Her locked knee dropped, releasing the suspended calf, unable to hold it as sensations flooded through her at finally having intimate contact and a squeal of joy and excitement that could disintegrate an army of dementors tore from her lips releasing days of pent up frustration. It erupted above him while her hips jumped and writhed for more before him. He couldn't hold back the smirk that curved against her skin. _Dear Merlin, she's beyond my expectation of responsive, I'll be taking her in under five minutes if she keeps this up._

"Control yourself Miss Granger. You will wear yourself out long before you give me the chance to do so if you coil yourself so tightly."

'_It's entirely your fault I'm coiled so fucking tight. I never thought, never expected you'd be so… so…'_ Her screaming mind short-circuited, the ability to form words lost, along with it the ability to unknowingly hurl almost every thought she possessed at his amused senses as he whole body was set ablaze; he was nibbling, sucking at the delectable skin he was attending to; so close to where she needed those lips but nowhere near close enough.

He drew back and looked at the smooth patch of skin, reddened by love-bite he had bestowed; it was so pretty, glistening with his saliva. He inhaled her scent once more as he leaned in closer to where beads of her arousal had begun to leak from her. The release of his breath caused her to shudder, violently and an ooze of nectar to seep the passage hidden by her sweet pink folds. He couldn't resist, it was contrary to his goal, his mission for answers but he was powerless against her scent, her adorable tight cunt, her secretions of desire, all for him. His tongue advanced and with a quick swipe, lapped with an enthusiasm hadn't possessed for anyone or anything in years.

"Oh, Severus" came the breathless cry from Hermione as she bucked against his wicked tongue.

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**A/N: Phew! ***wipes brow*** It's impossibly hard work writing sex scenes – the feelings, sensations, reactions, hand placement, lips placement, gasps, moans, whimpers, groaning – I think I need a lie down. To be continued… **

*****maniacal cackle*****

**Thank you all for the continued support of your readership and reviews. They make me want to write until my fingers fall off. Ever the Slytherin, hopefully I have left you wanting more. More which I promise will arrive soon.**


	12. Chapter 12 - Interruptions

**A/N: I know, I'm an evil cliffhanging Slytherin [enter synonym for witch here]. The thing is, I've been feeling the pull of my Dramione stories much more this week and so sadly our gorgeous dark hero got a rest in the back of my mind. Today however, I am bringing him forward, stripping him down and maybe even giving him a much needed shag… we shall see!**

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Chapter 12 - Interruptions

The sound of his own name in that sweetly breathless, lost to sensation voice gave Severus the urge to come on the spot. It was intoxicating, a heady, pulsing, bliss that he had never experienced; a shot of adrenaline to the withering levels of his control as he continued to taste her honey-almond flavoured essence. Oh to hear it again, it would surely drive him quite mad. But he knew that he could; with each lap of his tongue, every time he swirled over the sensitive knot of nerve-endings her whole body shuddered. She was exquisite; pure perfection and his.

It took only a few more seconds for him to bring her to climax; he sensed it approaching when her whole body went rigid with tension and need. Two fingers thrust inside her without warning, beckoning as they arrived at the spongy flesh of her g-spot, grazing against it over and over; his lips, as talented and needy as they were, latched onto her pulsing clit as she broke below him. His name ripped from her lips like the scream of a banshee as she rode his ministrations.

As Hermione's boneless body stilled and he drew away, possessiveness, deep and dark, encouraged by his own painfully hard arousal, overtook his senses; _this witch is mine, mine throughout lifetimes, mine to marry, to claim, to seize, to fuck into oblivion. She's so willing, so responsive, so lost to the pleasure I caused her. What on earth kind of Slytherin would I be if I didn't take advantage. Now! _He thought with a Machiavellian grin. _Now is the time to seal our twice-damned souls._

He rose slowly from his knees and began to lower the only garment she had left him clad in.

"Oh Severus" she repeated on a sigh. "That was… Gods if I'd imagined you doing that throughout all those potions lessons, I'd have enjoyed them so much more. What an amazing use of your acerbic tongue. Mmmmm!"

In spite of himself, Severus chuckled. She wasn't only the brightest witch of her age, but the cheekiest too.

"As you are in such a post-orgasmic stupor Miss Granger, I shall forgive your cheekiness and informality just this once," he addressed her in his most intimidating professor tone but it was strained with the limits of his control and barely concealing his joy and amusement at her compliments.

She blinked her eyes open to look at him.

"Informality, _sir_? With where you've just had your mouth, I believe informality should be a given," Hermione returned, her voice strengthening as she came back to the present. "I'll admit to the cheekiness, I really couldn't help it but it was not a false statement, _Professor_. Potions would have been a lot more fun if I had been imagining _that_ as a way to stop your cruel and heartless chastisements."

He didn't answer her at first, wondering how best to do so in action, rather than words. A moment later, as she held her breath for the onslaught on his response Severus moved towards her; standing between her still parted legs, he wandlessly raised the height of the bed so that her fully exposed, still leaking sex was lined up to his own desperate-for-friction arousal.

Hermione rolled her hips toward him, desperate for more friction herself; desperate for him, any part of him, all of him, she didn't care, she just wanted more. She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding as he ground his bare hardness against her aching mons in return and began to speak.

"Let us see if I can provide more distractions to that brilliant mind of yours. I do so enjoy the chastisements and when I officially offer you a Potions Apprenticeship after you return to school and complete your N.E. , I refuse to give them up just because you are not sufficiently distracted."

She gasped at the sensation as he finally pushed himself inside her wet heat, which welcomed him like he was returning home, stilling for them both to adjust to the feeling.

"Oh, fuck. You feel amazing, _Professor_. Never in a million years did my own imaginings do you enough justice. You're so… so…_" _She whimpered at his first withdrawal and gasped as he thrust into her again with more power.

He flicked his hips as he filled her the second time, making her arch her back and greet his hips enthusiastically with her own.

"Ap-apprentice… ship, sir?" she asked between pants as he withdrew again. "I didn't know… such a thing was… a poss – oh gods – a possibility sir." She managed to say as her breath grew slowly more laboured but matched him thrust for thrust. '_That sentence was an accomplishment. He's incredible. Oh fuck!'_

"Oh yes, yes. Right there – oh Merlin – yes. Professssssssorrrr" she moaned.

Severus was losing the battle with his own control; it slipped further away a little more with each thrust, every gasp, sigh and moan that left her; and when she called him '_Professor'_, especially like that he knew the only way to keep any grasp on himself was to answer her.

"It is rare that such an… opportunity is afforded to any student prior to their… N..E. , especially by myself…" he explained, pausing each time he thrust into her enveloping heat.

"Free my arms Prof… professor, please. Oh fuck, I'm so close, sir. I need to be grasping at you when I come sir… please. Please sir, let me feel more of you."

Severus gripped one of her hips, wandlessly releasing her bound arms before grabbing at her other hip with equal vigour to keep her in place and speeding up his rhythm. Hermione's reaction was instant. She wrapped her legs around his back and lurched upward to slam her palms against his shoulders and dig her nails in; finally given some leverage. Her mouth slammed into his as they both adjusted to the altered position and the additional depth of entry it afforded him.

The kiss was her undoing and she fell apart as his tongue danced with hers in synch with the now insistent pace his gorgeous, perfect, rock solid cock fucked itself into her. Her head falling back at a particularly sharp thrust which caught her g-spot just right. He was instantly at her neck, biting into the soft flesh above her collarbone as her nails continued to pierce his flesh. They both drew blood; her at his shoulders, he at her neck.

"Sevvvvvvverrrrrrruuuuussssss" came the piercing scream of her release as her every muscle clamped around him. His hands pushing down on her hips as he completely lost his own battle for holding on, feeling his balls lift and her so violently clenched around him, he relinquished his control to her and growled out his pleasure as he coated her deep inside with his seed.

As they both returned to earth, panting and dizzy in their mutual bliss, his hands moved to her waist and he lifted her from the edge of the bed.

"Well, well Miss Granger… I believe that performance is worthy of the first 'Outstanding' mark I have ever given without reluctance. You are quite the little witch."

"It's about time you noticed, sir" she said, giving him a cheeky grin and a swift peck on the lips while clenching her lower muscles around his still embedded but slowly softening cock, just as he was reaching the side of the bed.

"That is enough of your cheeks, Miss Granger." Severus said, grinning as he reached out with his right hand to slap at her bottom.

"Mmmmm," she hummed in pleasure even as she jumped at the unexpected contact. "I'm just getting started, Professor."

"Is that so?" He asked, smirking as he placed her down on the bed.

Before she could answer, before she could even think of an answer, both her and Severus felt the ripple in the wards… someone was trying to break through.

"Who knows we're here? Severus asked, grabbing his wand from the bed.

"No one, I swear. I used the fidelius charm. I haven't even told Harry and McGonagall."

"Well someone knows we're here and we should not be found in this state of undress."

"No one can get through my fidelius charm. As you said I'm quite the little witch. Now where were we?" she asked, her smile returning as she pulled him into a seering kiss.

"Miss Granger…" he murmured against her onslaught a moment later. She didn't respond other than with continued moans of pleasure. "Miss Granger…"

"That is the last time you get to call me that when we are alone." She said, pulling back. "No one who has fucked me like that gets to be so formal. I will not respond to it anymore… if you want any response out of me at all except during classes, the name is Hermione. You might as well get used to it."

He rolled his eyes.

"And there's no use rolling your eyes at me. The only time I will accept you calling me Miss Granger is if we are in class or surrounded by people who expect us to have a professional relationship."

He sighed in defeat as he lay on the bed. She had a point as much as it pained him to admit it.

"Can we go back to the kissing now please, _Severus_?" She picked up her wand and casually rolled in between her fingers. "Or do I have to bind your arms behind your head so we can have some more fun?"

"Very well, Miss… erm…" He cleared his throat. Hermione."

"Oh gods." She said as she straddled his hips. "The things your voice does to me. And the way you say my name… I'm never going to stop being wet."

"Her-mi-o-ne" he sounded out the syllables and she groaned, rocking her hips.

"Fuck, you're such a…"

But Severus didn't find out what he was.

At that moment, the door to their make shift bedroom burst open and three people bustled inform the corridor that led from the whomping willow. Severus had a protective arm around Hermione in less than a second, pulling her close to him as they both turned wands on the intruders… barely noticing the identities of who had the gall to interrupt them.

Ron was at the front of the small group as they edged into the room, eyes wide and mouths open; he was flagged by Luna and trying not to be seen, Harry.

"What the fuck is this?" Ron shouted at the naked pair on the bed. "Hermione what the fuck is going on? You're supposed to be my girlfriend… you only kissed me yesterday and now you're fucking this greasy haired, death eater? Are you under the imperious or something?"

Hermione felt Severus tense underneath her.

"Ron, calm down."

Ron's wand came up to point at Hermione, even as hers lowered. Severus kept his trained on the redhead.

"Ron, I am not now, nor have I ever been your girlfriend. _You_ kissed _me_ yesterday and considering it took you seven years to even notice I'm a girl, it was only shock that didn't have me pushing you away."

"That's hippogriff shit and you know it. And even if it was true, that doesn't mean you go jumping onto the cock of the closest fucking death eater."

"That is enough Weasley" Severus finally spoke but still didn't lower his wand.

"C'mon mate." Harry stepped forward to try and control Ron. "I think we should go. This seems to be something of a private moment."

"I'm not going anywhere. Not until I know what addled Hermione's brain enough to make her fuck well, _him_."

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Ronald. I am a grown-ass witch, almost two years passed the age of consent and who I choose to fuck is none of your business."

" But… but…" Ron spluttered.

"Your magic likes the Professor Snape's, Hermione." Came Luna's dreamy voice. "I can see the particles dancing with each other. It makes your wrackspurts happy."

Hermione smiled at her whimsically cryptic friend.

"Thanks Luna. Now, would you all mind excusing me, I'm a little busy."

"Yeah, being a death eater whore." Ron found his voice again.

Two streams of magic hit Ron before another word was uttered by anyone. He fell backwards into Luna and Harry and they all ended up on the floor in a crumple of arms and legs.

"Uh, what's that smell?" Harry said.

"Well, if he's going to spout shit from his mouth, he deserves it to be literal." Hermione replied haughtily.

"Oh you didn't." Harry said, trying not to retch at the smell, even as Severus burst out laughing.

"Oh, witch, I love you." He said, without thinking.

"Wh-what?" Hermione stammered, turning to look at him.

There was a scrambling noise where Harry, Luna were trying to untangle themselves.

"Oh Hermione, I'm so pleased for you. And for you to Professor." Luna said airily, as if nothing strange or unexpected had happened."

"C'mon Luna, I think we'd better go. Can you help me levitate Ron out of here?"

"Of course, Harry. I just need to find where the Venricax got to."

"The what?" Hermione said, her eyes not leaving Severus as his words still hadn't quite sunk in.

"The Venricax. It's an Aureum Venricax actually. It's how we found your fidelius charm. They hunt magic like niffler's hunt gold and feed on it… when this one found your fidelius, it gorged on it, draining the power and revealing the shack. He's probably sleeping somewhere now that he's full."

"Oh great. In that case we're gonna have all the reporters, professors and students down here in no time. Please can you go and head them off Harry while we get ourselves into a better state."

"Sure." He said to Hermione before turning to his ex-Potions Professor. "What did you curse Ron with, sir?"

"Only a stunner. I saw Hermione's wand move a fraction before mine, I trusted her to deliver something worthy of Weasley's foul language."

Hermione looked back at Severus with tears in her eyes, his words erasing the other people in the room from her mind; he trusted her, he knew she would deliver what Ron deserved. She glowed with his praise and trust, finally after years of his sour comments and glares, she felt his honest opinion of her and it awed her. Not to mention he had said he loved her only a minute ago and in that moment, looking into the midnight sky depths of his admiring eyes, she felt it too. She knew what her future self had meant; she was in love Severus Snape and even if his saying it had only been a slip in his self-control, her declaration would not be.

"I love you." She said very deliberately and with no hesitation before claiming his lips.

Harry and Luna backed out of the room, levitating Ron; both deciding silently that the venricax could be recaptured later.

* * *

The kiss did not break until both were about to pass out from loss of oxygen several minutes later.

"Our audience seems to have abandoned us." Hermione said, glancing toward the spot her friends had been by the door."

"Good," Severus commented. "I wish to continue sealing our bonds without the watchful eyes of your ex's."

He grabbed her hips to continue the liaison they had so deliciously began before being interrupted but Hermione picked up on what he'd said; her hands coming up to his chest to push him back.

"The bond? How do you know about that?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

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**A/N: Oh, no… I appear to have done it again; ran out of inspiration at a dramatic moment. Oh well, I'm sure I'll find some more soon.**

**Many thanks for all your lovely reviews so far. I really do appreciate your support and love for the wacky scenarios my brain keeps coming up with for these two. **


	13. Chapter 13 - Prelude

**A/N: Chapter thirteen, oh my god! I can't believe I've reached chapter thirteen – this was barely an idea when I started, it was no idea at all… just that I wanted to write a story about Hermione saving Severus Snape and they fall in love through crazy happenings. **

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Chapter 13 – Prelude

"Is that not obvious, Miss Granger? Come now, are you no longer the Brightest Witch of her Age?" Severus said, expressionless. _Figure it out Miss Granger. Having to explain this would be uncomfortable._

"Did you really just call me Miss Granger? Really? After where your mouth has been, are we not beyond such formality, _Severus_?"

It was almost laughable to Severus how easily he managed to distract her with the formality which no longer felt appropriate. She had a point; there was no need for him to treat her as a student, or indeed a child anymore; he had more than satisfactory evidence to the contrary that she was neither.

"I find your reasoning to be sound in this matter. As you absconded from your final year of education, you are no longer my student and you are as forthright in your sexual desires as a Knockturn Alley whore, I can certainly not consider you a child but it is a well-established moniker and I have used it for many years; it may be a difficult habit to break. Under what name would you wish for me to refer to you?"

Hermione huffed. She was used to him sounding insulting and accusatory in everything he said but to do so after what they had just shared, after she'd saved his life and cared for him for the last couple of days, it felt uncalled for.

_He's stalling? Distracting me? Why?_

"As you said I am no longer your student; which, by the way, will be changing in September as I plan to return to school to complete my education; well, it will change if you are also returning to the school. And as you so distastefully confirmed I am not a child anymore; you could simply try calling me by, you know, my name."

Severus raised an incredulous eyebrow at her boldness and Hermione felt the need to defend herself rise; his intimidation tactics would not stand with anymore. By reciprocating her desires, he had banished all fear she once felt toward him and it powered her courage now to mess with him a little.

"Unless of course, you want to advance straight to… oh, I don't know… babe? Sweetheart? Darling?"

"Insufferable!" he said, exasperated, struggling to hide the sliver of his amusement.

"That's hardly complimentary toward someone who just saved your life and made you come. And, I only had one more…"

"Gryffindor? So, very Gryffindor!" He inquired sarcastically, working his eyebrow again.

"Buttercup, actually." Hermione responded simply with a small smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"Buttercup?" He asked, disbelievingly.

"Not really" she laughed. "I just wanted to hear you to say 'buttercup'."

"I believe my initial assessment of 'Insufferable' is the most suitable moniker for you, my _insufferable_ little witch."

"I suppose that will have to do… for now."

_I should not put this inevitable confrontation off any longer. The more time that passes the more endearing she seems to become and I do not need another broken heart plaguing me for another twenty years – I sincerely doubt I would survive such pain a second time. I really should tell her the truth, I have lied to her enough, about everything; lied to them all enough; not that it wasn't necessary, or enforced. But still, her trust in me must be tentative; I should nurture it if I want this - whatever this is - to continue. At least this time she is quite within her rights to hate me; me and my damn curiosity. Legilimency might be useful and it has kept me alive more times than I can count but it is as much a fucking curse as it is a blessing. Just do not get angry and call her 'mudblood'. Don't call her mudblood. Don't call her mudblood. Don't call her mudblood._

"Now, my dear, you were inquiring as to my knowledge of our bonds?"

"Yes, I was. How exactly do you know that we are bonded? Wait, bonds? As in plural?"

Severus rolls his eyes.

"Would you like me to answer one of those questions or all of them?"

"All please, but not here. With the magical defences apparently eaten by a gold niffler and this situation being nobody else's business, I'd like us to be somewhere a little more undetectable."

"I concur. Do you have somewhere in mind?" he said, almost suggestively.

"There's my place; well, it's my parent's place but they're not… they're not there at the moment; actually I might need your help with that at some point. Your place, wherever that is, which would be interesting for me but probably not safe until you've been pardoned. I'm guessing the same applies for your quarters at Hogwarts. Erm…"

"If you are only trying to find a more comfortable bed to continue our bonding, I can fix that here…" He says, definitely with suggestive intent this time, a twinkle in his eye which could actually rival that of Albus Dumbledore."

"No, we need to talk. Properly talk."

"Very well." He said on a disappointed but resigned sigh. "Your parents' home may have been appropriate if the Order were not aware of your role in my survival and convalescence but as it is we are likely to be just as harassed by dunderheaded fools and their curiosities there as much as anywhere else. I, however, have a personal safe house which is known only to me and my mother; a cottage which has been in her family for generations."

Hermione smiled.

"Do you ever cease coming through with miracles?"

"I am simply well prepared for every eventuality but I am thankful for the faith you alone seem capable of bestowing upon me. The reasons for which I intend to ask you about once we begin this 'talk'."

"Of course, Severus. I don't wish to hide anything from you. Certainly not anymore."

"Indeed. Shall we take our leave then?" He held out his arm for her.

Hermione hesitated.

"We're not dressed and I need to collect my things from the makeshift bathroom."

"Of course. I shall prepare myself for departure whilst you collect your belongings." He said as she wandered toward the bathroom. "Very well done on your transfigurations in the bathroom; impressive," he added, dropping more breadcrumbs to her consciousness that he had used the facility while she was not present; more evidence that he had spent a lot more time conscious in the last two days than she realised.

"Thank you." Hermione shouted back from the bathroom. "You'll never know how amazing it feels to get compliments from you about my spell work or, well, anything really."

She heard him chuckle.

"I like the sound of you laughing." She continued, returning to him with an armful of bottles. "I don't think I've ever heard it before."

"Until now I have had very little reason to smile, let alone laugh."

"Well, that's true. It's a very deep and resonant sound. It's like I can feel it vibrating my bones."

"That will be a part of the bond. I will elaborate further once we are settled at the safe house."

"I should leave word for Harry or he'll think I've kidnapped you." Hermione said smiling.

"Potter is more likely to believe I have kidnapped you but perhaps you are…"

"Would it kill you to call him Harry? Just once?"

"…right." He finished his pre-interruption sentence. "I have already conceded to using your given name, considering the recent changes to our levels of familiarity, I believe it is acceptable when we are alone but I will not afford Mr Potter the same concession."

"Always so proper," she snorted. "No–one would ever believe you were fucking a former student an hour ago."

"Miss Granger…"

"Oh don't start that again." She said, grabbing his arm. "Shall we go?"

As Severus turned them both on the spot into the sensation of being sucked through a tube, Hermione missed the rolling of his eyes and the way he smiled predatorily at her sexual language.

* * *

They landed ten feet from the gate of what looked like a park keeper's cottage; it was in a large clearing, surrounded by thick forest and Hermione could feel the magic of many wards surrounding them. She wasn't quite ready to let go of Severus's arm so she loosened her grip but did not drop her arm as she looked around.

There was a slightly overgrown garden sectioned off from the rest of the clearing by a low stone wall and circling the house. She recognised many of the plants and trees that bordered the two-story dwelling with its thatched roof, perfectly central, hunter green front door and four small, wooden-framed windows, set against aged sandstone bricks.

"It's beautiful, so picturesque. It reminds me of drawings I did as a child. There's just one thing missing."

"Oh? And what is that?" Severus asked, genuinely curious.

"A lilac tree; just outside the kitchen window. I always drew a lilac tree but with raspberry red blooms. I love raspberries and used to believe everything should taste of them."

"Ah, red. Gryffindor, even before school." He chuckled again.

Hermione nodded at the thought.

"If you keep laughing, I'm going to be dragging you into the bedroom and we'll never get around to talking."

"I would have no complaints with that course of action, my dear."

"I'm glad to hear it but we really should get the talking out the way first. I know I have things I need to tell you and I get the feeling there are _certain_ _facts_ you need to tell me too."

"Unfortunately, _Hermione_, you are right." He stated without the previous humour as he led her down a stony path toward the front door.

"I do love it when you say my name like that. You know, unprompted." She replied, tightening her grip on his arm once more.

Severus opened the door with a wave of his wand and watched as Hermione's eyes widened in awe. Unlike the smallish and less than impressive exterior, inside the cottage was large and though it kept the rustic feel of a cottage in the woods, was lavishly decorated for comfort as well as displaying a high standard of opulence. There were high ceiling, perfectly polished hard wood floors, sumptuous fur rugs, marble statues and an open archway over to the far left which led to what looked like, if Hermione had to judge by the shelves of books on the other side, a library.

He noticed Hermione's eyes focusing where he knew they would right away and guided her silently toward the archway with a hand at her lower back, wandlessly lighting the lamps and the fires as they passed by each one. When they reached the library entrance, he heard his… his… what was she? Well, he heard her gasp and smiled; congratulating himself on correctly guessing her reaction – gasping and rendered speechless. _I should've taught her potions here,_ he thought to himself.

"Oh Severus, it's… it's stunning; completely marvellous. How do you ever drag yourself away?"

_Perhaps not._

"My life over the last twenty years has not easily leant itself to my favourite pastime of trying to read every book ever published but…"

"Oh Merlin, I thought I was the only one with that goal."

He chuckled again but his laughter was abruptly cut off by a pair of soft Gryffindor lips crushing onto his.

He stumbled backward at her sudden onslaught but as she hadn't let go of him, when he landed on the floor she landed on top of him, straddling him in fact.

She pulled away smiling as she looked at the man she was falling for in the most dishevelled state she had ever seen him.

"I'm getting a sense of Deja vu." She giggled.

"Quite." He responded in an uncharacteristic jovial tone before grabbing her hips and jumping up with surprising athleticism and placing her feet firmly on the floor. "One of us needs to keep our minds on this plan to talk and you, my dear, seem to be struggling with your hormones at present. I promise you can explore the books later but for now I think we should make our way to the seating area and have this conversation that neither of us particularly want to have. It seems though that we must before we continue with other_ more enjoyable_ activities." he pointed to a nook directly to their left.

Hermione saw two deep green leather wingback chairs and a chaise long of soft jade velvet; a low coffee table and two side tables with reading lamps, well lanterns really, set upon them.

"Slytherins and their green bloody everything." She said teasingly as she headed over toward the nook.

"Says the girl who wants red lilac trees." He deadpanned.

"Only one red lilac tree and it wasn't for the colour, it was for the flavour."

"Be that as it may, it would still be red. Now, are you still offended by the ownership of house-elves?"

Hermione looked up, confused by the sudden change of subject.

"Not offended exactly, no. Why?"

"Do not get all… _Hermione Granger_ about this…"

"Since when did I become a verb?" She asked looking affronted, but Snape ignored her.

"Weston!" He called out.

A moment later, there was the faintest trace of a pop to the right of Snape and a middle-aged house elf in a butler's uniform apparated into their presence, bowing.

"Welcome home, Master. Weston is glad you is well. What may I do for you, Master?"

"Ah yes, Weston, good. I am well, thanks to Miss Granger here. I am sure you have heard of Hermione Granger?"

Weston looked Hermione over twice and nodded before bowing again.

"It is Weston's pleasure to make your acquaintances Miss."

"Thank you Weston." Hermione replied.

"Hermione, I believe this conversation may need something stronger than tea. I am going to indulge in a glass or two of fire-whiskey. Would you care to partake?"

"Actually, I'd appreciate a glass of brandy, if you have some."

"Of course, my mother is partial to brandy. Weston, if you would please decant mother's brandy and serve us here in the library, please."

"Yes Master." Weston agreed before disappearing with another pop.

Whilst they waited for the much needed alcohol they both weighed the possible outcomes of the impending conversation which filled each of them with dread, for different reasons.

_Oh, this isn't going to be fun. He's never been the easiest person to talk to but this is… his life. He's given up enough already; he's going to hate being tied to me forever. How does he even know about the bond? He was unconscious the whole time I was figuring it out, wasn't he? Oh shit, what if he wasn't. But then he'd know about… and…and everything. Oh Gods, I can't do this._

Severus watched Hermione's face flush delightfully as she arranged and lost herself in thoughts and fears of what was to come. He fought the urge to use legilimency…

_That's how I got into this mess, at least the Hermione-mess. The alcohol will help… it will help both of us; I need to relax, I need to stay in control of the situation; although… her reaction to my legilimency is not easily anticipated. She could rage, she could run, oh Merlin, what if she cries? Perhaps if I practice before speaking_…

'_Miss Granger, Hermione, I have something to confess.' Is confess the right word? Will it make her defensive before I even begin? How did I end up in this situation? I managed successfully avoided detection by fucking Voldemort and I'm being thoroughly broken down by the insufferable, know-it-all Gryffindor Princess. No! She deserves the truth; she saved my life. It's conditioning that makes me reticent - years and years of conditioning, of watching what I say, how I act, of occlumency. It's the memory of Lily's rejection, the stain of her betrayal when she married Potter, the decades of buried pain caused by those fucking Marauders. I can do this, I did what no one else could when I played both sides of the war; who else could have been a highly ranked Death Eater and the sole spy within the enemy camp for the Order of the Phoenix whilst protecting Harry Potter, maintaining both cover stories and teaching full time. If anyone deserves the power house witch that is Hermione Granger, it's me. Fuck them all! I don't care about the backlash of our involvement; I want this witch, she wants me, we're twice bonded, destined and I'll be damned if I let her go now._

A squeaky cough interrupted the thoughts of both Hermione and Severus as the elf stood watching his Master and their guest staring blankly into the air as if blinded by their own thoughts.

"Master, your drinks are served. Will you both be here for dinner? Weston would like to prepare dinner for Master and his guest."

"Dinner would be most welcome, Weston." He said to his elf whom was pouring generous measures of fire-whiskey and brandy into the relevant glasses. He turned to Hermione. "Chicken?"

"Yes, chicken would be lovely. It feels like months since I've enjoyed a good elf-cooked meal; you don't realise how much miss something like that until you don't have it anymore. I could eat a skinny hippogriff between two mattresses."

"I believe we should keep to the chicken."

"Very good, Master." Weston said before popping away as Hermione nodded.

Once again alone, Severus handed Hermione her brandy and necked his own glass in one, trying to decide exactly what to say next; Hermione did the same.

"So…" Hermione began. "Shall I start?"

"Proceed." Snape responded.

* * *

**A/N: Ok, so I'm aware that all I have achieved in this chapter is a location change, a little indecision on the part of both Hermione and Severus and some much enjoyed banter. The reason this chapter has taken so long is because I was determining Snape's state of mind, mood and how I wanted him to react… with his last inner monologue that seems quite set now but is it set in stone? We shall see.**


	14. Chapter 14 - Hermione's Crush

**A/N: I'm attempting to get back to a writing schedule after a couple of weeks of radio silence so two Snape chapters in reasonably quick succession seems appropriate; might even be three as I'm itching to write the next. Also, I have fallen victim to my own cliff hangers and really can't wait anymore; at least for this part. Please enjoy… reviews, follows and favourites are, as always, always welcome.**

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Chapter 14 – Hermione's Crush

Hermione took a deep breath. This was it; this was the moment she finally revealed what she knew, how she knew, why she knew and how she saved him. Trusting herself to get through the whole story without crying or spontaneously bursting into flames from embarrassment was a monumental feat but she had to start somewhere. It was difficult for her to pin down where the beginning was exactly so she asked:

"Would you like to know how or why I saved you first?"

Severus sat at the opposite end of the velvet chaise to her, sipping his second fire-whiskey and remaining silent; he shrugged loosely at her question, as if her story was only of mild interest to him. Years of practice in the art of misdirection was a hard habit to break and he knew he had to school the innate curiosity that had been plaguing him for days.

"Ok. Fine, be like that. I won't bother asking your opinion next time." She took a deep breath to still her frustration with his seeming lack of interest and continued. "Well, I suppose I should start at the most beginning point I can think of, which would be during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. I think that is where most of these circumstances began to…"

"Two years ago?" He asked casually. "That's when you decided you needed to save me? That's when you developed these… feelings?"

_Should I really be honest about when I started to fancy him? What if it puts him off? There's a reason I hid my interest, my fascination, infatuation from literally everyone, including him. How would I even phrase that? Erm…_

"The saving thing was gradual over the last two years… I'm getting to that. As for the _feelings_, they have been developing for much longer, more like almost six years but I'll get to that later too."

"Six years?" Finally the calm, unflappable façade cracked as his eyebrows rose and his mouth dropped open. "Hermione, you were a child."

"Ok, I guess I'll get to it now. I was a very advanced child, if you remember? It was never about doodling love-hearts in notebooks with your initials in them; my feelings for you started with respect. I remember the exact moment it really changed from the respect I have for all of my professors to particularly favouring you… it was when you knocked Lockhart on his arse during that duelling club demonstration in second year. I was like most young girls at the beginning of that year, practically drooling over the handsome and famous author; it was more about his _being_ an author for me than the handsome and famous bit but it didn't take me long to realise just how much of a poser he really was and by the time the duelling club happened I was over it. The way you… well, your prowess during the duel, your magnetism, stance, power; I didn't realise all those things at the time, but my respect and admiration was won in that moment."

_Well, now I've done it. Goodbye Severus, have a nice life._ Hermione thought with a cringe at her own childish god-worship of the man. She knew she had babbled like a twelve-year-old with her first crush; she knew she sounded awed and dumbstruck and he was probably going to lose any respect he may hide for her all in the instant she declares hers for him. _Oh the irony!_

Severus noticed as he watched her describe the day he had won her respect and admiration that she did not flush scarlet at the admission; the feelings and journey she was sharing with him did not make her feel embarrassed or ashamed. That more than the details of Hermione's tale made his heart swell and his chest tighten. He nodded his acceptance of the praise with a small but genuine smile, unable to speak without betraying emotions he wasn't quite ready to share himself.

She nodded back, seeming to understand him and smiled before continuing.

"It seems the story that led to this moment… to… _us_, began even earlier than I realised but then don't all good stories have something like that? Some big realisation that it all began so long ago, that it was 'meant to be', that the drama and happenstance around it is just to enthral the audience?"

"Perhaps. Much of the drama and happenstance, in your case, however, seems to be of your own making. I am curious when your feelings changed once more… from the admiration and respect, which I do, by the way, appreciate, to something entirely more… hormonal?"

She smiled shyly, blushing a little and looked down.

"So coy, Hermione? After your declarations and our exertions in the Shrieking Shack, I would have believed you beyond shyness?"

"On the whole, I like to think I am but stating these things out loud and especially to you makes me feel like a silly little school girl with a crush again. The truth is, the _hormonal_ side of things, as you call it, I assume meaning when I more specifically started to find you attractive, was in fourth year. Again, the girls had others to lose their head over… Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum… my head wasn't turned, much. I won't deny fleeting interests; Cedric was… well, the whole school fancied him and as for Krum, well he invited me to the Yule Ball as I'm sure you remember, so I don't have a leg to stand on to deny my interest there but it was really all to make Ron jealous and while I didn't really mind Viktor and he was technically my first ever date so I'll always remember him fondly, it was never like we could have been anything serious, I mean he lives on the other side of Europe somewhere and…"

Severus held his hand up to cease the run on sentence.

"Hermione, breathe. If you do not, I fear you will expire before you reach the end of that long-winded sentence, never mind the whole story."

Hermione took several very deep, calming breaths, narrowing her eyes maliciously at the interruption.

"Right, yes. I was just trying to make the point that…"

"Yes, yes. You were a teenage girl getting caught up in all the usual things that teenage girls do; namely, teenage boys." He smirked.

"Well, yes. Fine. I'll own that part. But my _point_ is that it was fleeting. My interest in teenage boys was short-lived; my attentions were much more inappropriately directed, or more appropriately depending on your point of view, at a certain professor." She said with a smile.

"So it would seem. From what point of view could your interest in me ever be considered appropriate? Not that you ever made it known."

"Well that would have gone down well, I'm sure… _'Professor Snape, I'm having problems concentrating in you lessons. The problem being that all I can think about is how much I want to snog your face off while undoing all those blasted buttons that make seeing you shirtless a most impossible task.' _How exactly would you have responded?"

Seeing her point he cleared his throat.

"Erm… I imagine not well. I would perhaps have had you adjourn to the hospital wing, maybe even St Mungo's for a clearly addled mind. I would have believed it to be the effects of Amortensia in your morning pumpkin juice, possibly the imperious curse as a worst case scenario."

"Well, isn't that charming? Suffice it to say, I held my tongue and my heart for a reason. And as for 'from what point of view my interest would seem appropriate', well, that would be from my point of view, naturally. I understand others would see it as misguided but it made sense to me… you were, and still are… magnificent. I know you're going to hate the term 'hero' but it does stand… the dark hero, if that makes you feel better… the sharpest wit, the driest humour, blindingly brilliant mental capabilities, strikingly attractive, worthy or respect and admiration and despite what the rest of our world thinks, trust. You were everything, you still are… and now I'm learning still more, such as how utterly self-deprecating you are and there's actually a spark of amusement in your eyes when you look at me like I'm crazy… that spark right there…" she pointed her right index finger directly at his face. "Who else could ever capture my interest so completely that even in comparison to books, it is as if you blot out the sun?" She put her hand down. "Who else could I ever fall so desperately in love with that I would submit without argument, fight or flight to a magically cursed bond or two? It seems the bond, at least the one I know of, marks me, marks us both as damned to an eternity with each other but I honestly and truthfully…" she moved closer to him, giving him the opportunity to kiss her if he agreed, "consider it a blessing."

_She loves me? She just said she loves me. She said a lot of wonderful things but I think the love thing tops them all. She brought up the bonds too… ok, Sev, time to come clean. She loves me! She loves me? Yes! She loves me. Has anyone ever said that to me before? Ok, focus on the bonds, come clean, and think about the love thing later. She loves me. Hermione Granger loves Severus Snape… Skeeter would have a field day. She loves me._

He took the proffered opportunity and pulled her into his lap. His lips crushing against hers in a searing kiss which was to leave her in no doubt of his approval of her declaration as he positioned her to straddle his lap. He grabbed her hips and yanked her closer to him, feeling his cock stir at both her proximity and declarations. He couldn't remember ever feeling more wanted.

_Fuck it, we can talk later. Except I want her to say it again, I want her to say she loves me over and over again… as she falls apart against my fingers and my tongue, as she rides my cock and screams my name. _

"Oh Gods, Severus. Your kisses are heaven and hell all at once, I never want to stop but we have to… I need to… oh fuck that feels amazing…" she said as he moved his drugging kisses to her neck and down her shoulder.

"I am pleased you brought up the bond. Can I lure you into continuing to seal it?" He asked against her neck a whole octave lower than his usual delicious tone. She shuddered in response.

"Gods, I want to, I can't think of anything I want to do more; I would love it in fact, but there is so much more to tell you and…"

"I don't care about the rest of your story, just as I doubt you will care about mine. I am much more interested in doing this…" His hands moved up her sides, pulling the v-neck white t-shirt with them and over her head before dipped his head, and more specifically his mouth toward her breasts. His hot tongue traced the lace edging of her bra, his hands peeling the fabric down to reveal her soft mounds and their tightened peaks.

"Severus, we need to…"

Her determined speech broke into a moan as his mouth latched around one nipple sending a thrill directly to her clit; the deft fingers of his beautifully talented hands pinching and rolling her other nipple until she forgot completely that there was ever a need conversation. All she needed, all she wanted was this, him and her locked in this endless moment of bliss and togetherness, of possessiveness and claiming the other. It was all she had hoped for, all she had fantasised about and more. He was so everything.

"Hermione, you are perfect. So beautifully responsive. I love every moan, every breathy whimper, mewl and groan and when you grind your hips like…" she ground her hips against his very tight trousers and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation, "mmmm, like that, I can barely think long enough to speak."

"Your voice washes over my whole body, it sends shivers up my spine and…. Oh my God…" she halted her praise as his other hand moved up her spine. "And makes me ache, I ache so much to have you inside me, right here… "She rolled her hips again, making him growl.

"You are a siren, Hermione. How have I lived my whole life without such bliss?"

"Make love to me, Severus."

Severus Snape had never been a man who needed to be told twice, about anything, and this was certainly not going to be the day he made an exception. His hands returned to her hips and as he stood she slid her legs around him, not wanting to lose any contact at all. He turned on the spot, apparating them to his bedroom, landing perfectly before the bottom end of his four-poster, black draped, bed.

She giggled at his enthusiasm and pulled him into the first kiss she had so aggressively initiated as he placed her to sit on the edge of the bed and they worked to remove each other's clothing; switching from fast and frenzied to slow and seductive. Both feeling the urge to claim and be claimed, both wanting to savour each divine and lavish attention of the other.

It took barely a minute for Severus and Hermione to be clad only in underwear, hers lacy, his silk and they ripped at the last vestiges of their modesty, feeling none at all. The request Hermione had made for Severus to make love to her had quickly demanded a much more frenzied approach and as he lined himself up with her sopping wet entrance, she amended the request.

"Fuck me, Severus."

He slammed into her with every ounce of strength and feeling he possessed.

"Yeeeeeees. Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me Severus." She cried out as he set a gruelling pace, his hips ricocheting off the cradle of her thighs as he pistoned in and out of her.

In barely a minute or two she was feeling the familiar coil of tension inside her abdomen and womb; she urged him deeper with her heels as they dug into the base of his spine and dug her nails into his shoulders as the tension increased…

"I'm… I'm… Severus, I'm going to…" the stuttered, almost incoherent sentence broke as she felt her whole body shudder with release, her internal walls clamping on the rock solid arousal of the incredible man inside her, his name wailing from her lips like the cry of a banshee.

Unable to stop his own release, Severus growled her name and spilt his seed, decorating her womb like a Jackson Pollock painting before collapsing over her, panting hard.

Matching his unsteady breathing rhythm but cherishing the weight of him sated and collapsed on top of her, Hermione let out a contented sigh, with only one thought screaming in her mind… _'I love you Severus Snape'_.

Luckily or unluckily for the wizard in question, given that he still had not revealed his secret of the last couple of days, his mind heard every word of the declaration her mind played like a mantra on repeat. He wondered if he had ever felt more content in his life and feared that it may all end with his confession.

_Now? _He wondered. _Is now a good time to tell her? It probably is. I have time to try and explain while she gets dressed to bolt out the door._

"Hermione…"

"Oh Gods, Severus, you're amazing. I've dreamt about this, fantasised about it for years but I never imagined you would be so… oh gods, I don't know, so… everything."

He rolled off of her, smirking and lay on his back beside her. She didn't look at him when he moved, her eyes still closed, enjoying the post-coital warmth that still caressed her.

"You're smirking, aren't you? She asked, amusedly.

"And so what if I am? You are very generous with your praise Hermione, praise I am not used to. Allow the indulgence of preening under the admiration of a beautiful young lover."

"Did you just call me beautiful?"

"I remember you being much more retentive in lessons. Perhaps you are losing your hearing?"

Hermione playfully swatted his chest from her position just as there was a knock at the bedroom door.

"If you do not wish to bare yourself to Weston, you might wish to slip under the covers." Snape said and waited for her to do so before bidding the house elf to enter.

"Good evening Master. My apologies for the interruption. Dinner will be ready in forty minutes and there is a patronus message in the collection wards."

"Thank you Weston. I shall see to it. Please direct Miss Granger to the master bathroom if she requires the facilities and show her back to the library." Snape said with absolutely no modesty in front of the elf as he stood and donned a robe before walking from the room.

"The facilities is just through the door on the left there, Miss. Call for Weston when you is ready to be shown back to the library."

* * *

Severus left the bedroom and made his way downstairs, into his private study to cast the spell which allowed patronus messages out of his collection wards. It was a fascinating little ward that he created in the summer between Hermione's third and fourth year. It worked very much like a muggle answering machine; allowing him to receive messages when he was ready, as opposed to when they could impose on him at any time, such as an inopportune moment. He could only cringingly imagine what the effect of hearing Dumbledore's voice, or Potter's might have been whilst he was fucking Hermione. If he'd have managed to power through that it would have been a miracle.

He wandlessly released the trapped patronus from his ward, rolling his eyes in exasperation when the corporeal silver smoke of a stag began to glide toward him. Begrudgingly, he had to hand it to Potter; the boy had become remarkably adept at the Patronus Charm – _shame he couldn't master occlumency in such a way._

"Snape, it's Harry. I'm assuming you're still with Hermione somewhere. I checked the Shrieking Shack and found it deserted so I assume she healed you enough to apparate as well as take advantage of you. After seeing your memories and what you've done, what you've been though, neither of you need to worry about my interference with whatever you two decide to turn your situation into. All I ask is that you try not to hurt her, in the past seven years she has become as dear to me as a sister ever could be and while I can forgive you for being curmudgeonly bat of the dungeons and a thorn in my childhood, I am incapable of forgiving anyone who causes my best friend a moment's pain more than what she has endured. Also, please let her know we knew all along that she had a 'thing' for you… she's an awful liar… your name was written all over her diary. Please look after her and you'll never hear a cross word from me about your… whatever it is.

I'd also like to say, in regards to my mother that I understand your dislike of me much better now; obviously with me looking so much like my dad, I must have been an unpleasant reminder of your heartbreak from all those years ago. On her behalf, I'd like to say thank you for protecting me, even if it was begrudgingly and out of guilt for calling her that word; I'm sorry she never forgave you. It was a one-time slip up when you were hurt and angry; in my eyes and hopefully hers from where she is now, you are beyond exonerated. I love my parents but the bubble has well and truly burst on the childish worship I once had for them; they were human, they made mistakes, just like all of us do. I'm sure you don't like to rake over the past too much so that is all I'll say on the matter unless you bring it up in the future.

Will you ask Hermione to message me please? Kingsley is acting Minister for now and wants her to provide witness statements surrounding Death Eaters. I'm planning to speak for Draco Malfoy and was hoping Hermione would do the same… he was a fucking kid when he got drew into all this mess, just like me, just like her and while I'm sure he's still a little shit, he doesn't deserve a lifetime in Azkaban for decisions made about his life that were out of his control.

Well, I think that's everything for now, you're probably rolling your eyes at how long I've subjected you to my voice but it felt important to let you know I hold no ill-will toward you, about anything. I'll send another message when your pardon is official."

Severus wiped a tear away from his left eye as the stag patronus faded away. He hadn't realised how much he wanted or needed validation from Lily's son about his decisions over the course of his life. He had never sought it out, so imprisoned by his role as spy, his servitude to both Dumbledore and Voldemort; so conflicted about protecting the boy of the woman he had loved, who had rejected him. It was a balm hearing Harry Potter accept all the decisions he had made, a tonic for the soul to hear the boy apologise for his mother's rejection, to say he saw her in a more realistic light because of him. In that moment, feeling carried away by sentiments – something he had not had the freedom to do in such a long time – Severus chose to return the boys message.

"Expecto Patronum…"

The form that burst from his wand was not the doe he had been expecting; the doe which represented his love for Lily Evans; the die which had saved Harry Potter's life in the Forest of Dean. To his surprise, the silvery smoke that erupted was a phoenix…; it glided through the air to him on silent silvery wings to await instruction.

_This isn't possible. The phoenix was Albus's thing, not mine. It doesn't even have anything to do with Hermione, or the soul bond or Merlin's magic. It's just changed out of nowhere. Granted there have been cases of patroni changing after traumatic events but why a phoenix? Is it because I almost died? Is it because Hermione healed me with phoenix tears? With Hermione's love have I finally, somehow, let go of Lily?_

"Erm…" he began, clearing his throat. "Message for Harry Potter… Miss Granger and I are both safe and in a comfortable location – she will be taken care of. She intended to inform you of us relocating but we were… talking," he made the word 'talking' imply that they had done no talking at all, which he supposed was practically true.

"I appreciate your sentiments, Mr Potter. As you are now aware, your mother and I were close pre-Hogwarts and during our first few years. I regret the disgusting slur I called her which ended out friendship, as you say, I was angry and upset; I lashed out in the heat of the moment. Rest assured, it is not a reflection of my true feelings regarding muggle-born witches; then or now.

As for Hermione and I… we are still working out the finer details of what we are but I believe we both wish for us to be a 'we'. Not that she or I require your blessing, Potter, but it is respected all the same; you mean a lot to her and I am sure your approval will make the backlash we shall receive from the general public, easier to deal with.

In regards to my pardon and trials and witness statements, etcetera, I expect Hermione will be in touch in due course. Please pass on my congratulations to Kingsley on receiving the Ministership; he is deserving of the position and I hope he keeps it. Also, please inform Minerva that I wish to rejoin the staff of Hogwarts and reclaim my position as Potions Master if Horace would like to return to his retirement; I shall speak to her after the paperwork for my pardon has been completed and made official.

Finally, Hermione will not forgive me if I do not say this at least once but know that I do not plan to make a habit of it, even for her…

Thank you, Harry."

Snape flicked his wand and the phoenix flew through the wall of his study, towards, Harry Potter and he assumed, Hogwarts.

"Thank you." Hermione's voice came from the open doorway behind him and a moment later small arms were wrapping around his middle from behind. "I know that couldn't have been easy for you but it will mean a lot to him and it means more to me than you will ever know."

"Anything to stay in your good books, Miss Granger." He replied sarcastically.

She laughed.

"The phoenix must have been a surprise?" she asked.

"It was. I cannot explain how or why it has changed; perhaps the trauma of almost dying, perhaps that you healed me with phoenix tears; maybe something to do with finally being able to let go of the past?"

"I know why it's changed." Hermione stated, very determinedly.

"Do tell…"

"Well, the thing is…"

* * *

**A/N: As much as I have fallen prey to my own cliff hangers, I'm not planning to stop them. My only explanations being that I am a Slytherin and I love to tease myself with these things as much as all my lovely rabid readers.**

**As always, please review… your comments are the inspiration and motivation that keep me writing.**


	15. Chapter 15 - The Thing is

**A/N: I seem to have had quite the Snapey week, and yes Snapey is a word. Some would think it to be indicative of the effects of PMS but no, it is the feeling one gets when one has been imagining Severus Snape in all his dark clad glory – it is the feeling sexy and brooding with a hint of Slytherin mischief.**

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Chapter 15 – The Thing is…

Severus turned in her arms to look into the slightly apprehensive chocolate eyes of his new… _what on earth am I supposed to call her… girlfriend, soul-mate, fiancée? _He raised his eyebrows to bid her finish her sentence, hoping he would finally get some answers.

"I'm not quite sure how to begin. Can we go outside? I think a little fresh air might help."

"Just tell me what is going on with my patronus, Hermione. It has been a doe since I first managed cast it in 1978. How is it possible that you could know the how it has changed form and the reason behind it changing?" He demanded of her, beginning to lose his patience.

"Please, Severus. Can we go outside? I promise it will be easier to explain." She begged, releasing his waist from her embrace.

"Very well. But no more stalling once we're outside."

"I don't want to stall. I'm not stalling."

Severus led her from his office, through the magically expanded ground floor of the cottage to a sun-warmed conservatory which was decorated in cream and beige with gold and red accents. Hermione smiled in surprise as she entered the room and watched her… _what do I call him? Boyfriend doesn't seem very fitting; lover would certainly be appropriate at the moment… yes let's go with that._ Hermione watched her lover open the patio doors onto a beautifully manicured garden, filled with low hedges and flower beds bursting with herbs and magical flowers.

"It's all so beautiful, Severus. Is this your work or your mothers? Or did Weston create such a splendid garden? I have to be honest, I can't imagine you on your hand and knees, digging in the earth and getting your hands muddy."

"It has been a collaborative effort. I tend to the harvesting for potion ingredients, Weston is not particularly involved but I do have a second house elf – Petal – who is much more involved with the digging, planting and weeding. My mother's interest are particularly captivated by cultivating hybrids; she gave up on matchmaking for my benefit when I was much younger and now she plies that interest into the plants – she doesn't call them hybrids, she calls them the love child of, for example lilac trees and raspberry bushes." He said as he gestured to their right.

Hermione gasped as her eyes fell to the side where she assumed the windows from the library must look out; there in front of the only window on that side was the largest lilac tree she had ever seen. It was in full bloom with stunningly conical flushes of light purple flowers.

Severus smiled at her sheer joy from looking at a tree, surprised, given her obvious love of botanicals that she wasn't more enamoured with the subject of herbology; he decided to ask her about that later. He flicked his wand at the tree with which she had such admiration and fascination; the lilac flowers began to break out into red spots, which expanded and spread out until each bloom was a rich, raspberry shade of red. Hermione ran up to it and touched several of the blooms, burying her nose into one and inhaling deeply.

"Oh Severus, it smells like raspberries. However did you manage to find a spell to do this?" She asked as she turned back to stare at him in awe.

"As I am sure you remember from your studies with my old potions book in your sixth year, I am rather adept at creating my own spells. I have not managed to replicate the taste of raspberries yet but I am sure it will not take me too much longer."

She ran at him and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a very passionate but equally as sweet kiss which she felt she never wanted to stop gifting him. He pulled back from her lips after a few moments but wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You're stalling." He whispered to her with a smile.

"You distracted me with making a childhood dream come true… almost. You only have yourself to blame."

"You're still stalling. Tell me about my patronus." He urged, his hands sliding down to her bottom and squeezing.

"Fine, but you need to stand back a little. And just so you know, I didn't use your potions book in my sixth year or at any other time; that was all Harry. After the _sectumsempra_ incident, Ron and I made him get rid of it in the Room of Requirement."

His eyebrows furrowed a little but he did as he was bid and took a few steps back, releasing her and choosing not to comment on Potter's use of the potions book.

"Close your eyes." Hermione instructed.

"Why is that necessary, Hermione?"

"Please, Severus. Trust me."

Severus gave an exasperated sigh, such as one he used to give when he found her to be insufferable in the early years of their acquaintance, as her professor.

"Very well." He said finally and closed his eyes.

"Thank you. Now, count to one hundred and you can reopen them."

_Count? Why the fuck must I count? This girl… I swear she will be the death of me. If it isn't the sex or the endless questions, it's these inane little tasks. Unless she wants to leave. Could she have changed her mind about me? It wouldn't surprise me. She'll be disappointed, if that is the case to know that with a sealed bond, she will find no other attractive. Tragically, it means I shall be disappointed too that I am losing my one chance at any semblance of a happy future. She's going to be gone when I open my eyes; I just know it._

"You will still be here when I open my eyes, won't you?" He asked, a little panic in his voice betraying his emotions.

"Of course, I will." She stepped towards him once more and kissed him chastely on the lips before retreating again. "You're not getting rid of me Severus Snape; I'm all yours." She announced in a soft, loved-up voice. "Now start counting. Slowly. Your voice has such an arousing effect on me and the more I get of it, the more it will fuel the flames of the next few minutes."

Hermione watched his eyebrows rise at her confession, surprised that after everything she had said to him in the last couple of days, such a small admission would surprise him so.

"How is your arousal at my voice indicative of how my patronus…"

"Sssssshhhhhh" she sounded, quietening him. "Please, trust me." she whispered. "Have I ever truly let you down or given you a reason not to?"

He thought about her question – apart from the initial blundering mistakes in potions when she was a first year, which were surprisingly few compared to her fellow students, she had never let him down. She had conquered his potions riddle in helping Potter to the philosopher's stone, she had taken his criticisms and acerbic nonsense for years and now, when she had the chance to call him on it, she simply understood that he had been acting on orders and protecting himself. _No, Hermione, you have never let me down or given me a reason not to trust you, except for all this bloody stalling and making me jump through hoops for answers. I wonder, are you doing this on purpose to pay me back for making you jump through hoops for grades; how very Slytherin of you._ He smiled at the thought but simply said "No."

"Right. Then please begin."

She heard him take a deep breath as she too closed her eyes to focus on his voice.

"One… two… three…"

Hermione listened to the deep, sexy baritone of her lover, really listened to how masculine it was, how the octave never shifted unless absolutely necessary. She usually had to imagine his voice to do this but this time she had the real thing and it was speeding up the process.

She felt the familiar warmth spread from her core, which was always affected by his voice, through her body; every limb and joint weakened under the caress of his deep baritone, it was her trigger. Much like a patronus requires a happy memory, this transformation requires an animalistic urge and hers was the fire in her veins at the sound of his voice. It danced along every nerve ending, igniting the elemental force of fire within her magic. If she had not learned how to do this, she feared she may spontaneously combust every time she heard his wonderful vocal resonance.

"Thirty-one… thirty-two…"

_Here we go,_ she thought as her magic reached fever pitch, bursting into magnificent golden flames that engulfed her; mystical elemental forces which she had yet to decipher eliciting the change. The force of the magic was immense; it flung her arms wide and lifted her from the ground as the fires grew. She was lost to the sensation of it now as every cell of her body was reborn into that of a magnificent phoenix.

"Seventy-eight… seventy-nine… eighty…" Snape continued, frowning at the unusual heat and sounds that his senses were picking up but he continued to trust her and did not open his eyes.

Hermione hovered before him, softly flapping her ruby red wings to stay aloft as she waited for his reaction.

Ninety-nine… One Hundred. Can I open my eyes now?" He asked, impatiently.

After a moment of no response, he began to fear that she really had fled.

"Hermione, if I find you have fled without so much as a goodbye I shall be most displeased." He said in his familiar short-tempered voice but she could sense the fear that laced itself through his intimidating tone. She tried not to feel guilty.

His eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on the majestic, mythical bird of eternal fire before him. She was stunningly beautiful; ruby red feathers which glinted with a golden sheen in the evening sunlight; amber eyes which sparkled with happiness and mirth at the incredulous look which he assumed was evident on his face. He was speechless, caught between uncompromising admiration and absolute shock.

Hermione considered that to get any sense out of him at this point she would have to transform back. His silence helped. She allowed the fire that flowed through her to die down in her mind, reducing it to softly glowing embers, before visualising the greying of her phoenix form as it turned to ash. Her trigger to return to human form was Harry; she imagined him asking her for help with something, anything really, and the elemental forces released their hold on her, recognising the need for limbs and a voice.

Still in her animagus form she fluttered to the ground, there was a sudden whoosh of flame consuming her animagus body and Severus watched transfixed. After several moments the flames died down, the red of her feathers, the amber of her eyes, the bright glow that emanated from her, all faded to ash grey.

Severus stepped closer, concerned and realised it was not just the colour of the bird that had changed, it was the very fabric of her being, she was a solid form of ash, practically a statue of compressed cinders.

His eyes never left her as the seconds ticked by; he was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong; he had only seen animagus transformations relating to non-magical beasts, such as Minerva's cat-form. _Surely magical beasts, especially elemental ones are a more difficult form to master. Perhaps she has not quite mastered it. I will not have her as a lawn decoration…_

"Hermione…"

The ash broke apart as a head of bushy hair lifted from it. She was in a crouched position and had to bring her arms to floor to steady herself as she moved to bring herself to her feet. She looked at him, smiling.

"Well, that was… something." He said, still rather shocked.

Her smile widened.

"Sorry if I worried you at the end there. When I change, if I haven't got a good amount of the magical energy out with a good flight, it takes some effort to get back to being me."

"I see. Would you like me to cast a scourgify? You are rather covered in the ash that you broke out of."

"Yes, thank you. I think I may need a change of clothes before dinner though. It's the only downside, all the ash."

"Phoenix ash is an invaluable potion ingredient; I used to collect it from Fawkes but obviously that isn't possible these days. Would you be opposed to my harvesting it from your clothing?"

"I don't mind that. Will it be the same substance as true phoenix ash? Given that most of the time I'm a witch, it may have a different chemical makeup."

"I shall do some experiments to find out." He responded, smiling. "Let's get back inside so you can clean up for dinner." He added, guiding her inside, a hand at the small of her back.

"Well if anyone can figure it out, you can." She replied as she walked ahead of him. "You have such a formidable intelligence when it comes to these things. Really, Severus, I'm in awe."

"You are very generous with your praise but the awe is likewise, I assure you. To have mastered the animagus transformation at such a young age is an incredible feat of magical ability, especially as your other form is an elemental being. You have made me quite proud, Miss Granger."

She didn't respond and it felt odd that she wouldn't at least say thank you, polite as she was, for the compliment. He wondered if it had been the slip with her name that had somehow caused her silence. He walked a step or two behind her as they headed back towards the bedroom and en-suite in continued silence. It wasn't until she closed the bathroom door behind her that he heard a sniffle and understood – she was overwhelmed by his praise.

He chose not to comment on it, sure that she would be embarrassed. Instead he reminded her that dinner would be ready in ten minutes and he was heading down to the dining room; asking her to call for Weston when she was ready.

* * *

Hermione entered the beautiful dining room just as several platters appeared on the 'set-for-two' dining table; she had piled her hair up on top of her head in a type of bun and apparently secured it with magic, a few loose curls hanging around her face with her wand thrust through the bun. Severus also noticed that she had changed her clothes; she wore much cleaner and much tighter, black denim jeans and a sage green, satin halter neck; her back, arms and neck beautifully exposed.

Severus gulped. She looked stunning. The school girl he was fearful of corrupting in the eyes of the public was gone; the warrior queen whom had fought alongside the 'The Boy Who Lived' to rid the world of Voldemort had also vanished. The woman now entering his dining room was both of those things and yet so much more; she was certainly more woman than girl with warm eyes that made him think of warm honey, soft, full lips still plumped from his bruising kisses and curves that could drive any man to the brink of insanity; she was perfect - a strong, confident witch; stunning inside and out, with enough magical oomph to tame the elemental fires and transform into a phoenix.

Severus felt, knew it with every fibre of his being that he didn't deserve her but as he stared open-mouthed at the woman walking toward him to share a dinner date, his Slytherin side kicked in and he knew he would use every trick in the book, move hell or high water to keep her at his side. The bond had done its job well; he was gone, hook line and sinker, he would be anything she wanted, anything she needed. He just had to attempt to not let her know that… he was still a Slytherin.

As Hermione approached the table, Severus stood to pull out the chair on his left, his eyes never leaving her…

"You look beautiful." He said as she sat down.

"Thank you. You look rather gorgeous yourself. I always thought so of course but it's different now. I like being able to tell you so; makes me feel like I'm not just imagining it."

"You are too kind Hermione. This old face is far from perfect."

"It's perfect to me."

Hermione had always assumed he considered himself less than attractive. It was quite obvious in the way he dressed, robes and clothing made to conceal every possible part of himself; how every inch of those robes and clothes were black, the most obscuring colour to blot out any trance that he was human and magnificent under all that fabric. She was determined to bring him out of the self-loathing that kept him imprisoned; he was amazing, incredibly striking and completely mesmerising and she'd make sure he knew it.

She stood and leaned over to him, planted a chaste kiss on the end of his nose and brought her hands up to cups his face, "I wouldn't have you any other way." She assured him before re-taking her seat. Possibly for the first time in almost twenty-five years, Severus blushed. The slightest tinge of pink, shading his pale cheeks as his heart swelled with something unfamiliar.

_This girl… this girl… this woman…_ he corrected in his mind as he eyes travelled to her cleavage,_ is amazing. A complete liar despite what Potter said in his patronus, or blind, or her mind is addled by the bond to see things that are not there, but amazing nonetheless. How did I ever get through a day without her?_

He cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond, so he didn't.

"Shall we eat?"

"Definitely, I'm starving."

They tucked in heartily, both of them not having had a good meal for a while. The chicken breast was cooked to perfection, succulent and well-seasoned, accompanied by soft baby potatoes and garlic green beans. They ate in a comfortable silence, both engrossed in the enjoyment of the food to think of speaking or have their thoughts run away with them; it was a much needed respite from all the drama of the last few days, the last few years really.

"I must thank Weston for the meal, it was delicious." Hermione said after her gorgeous dinner companion had cleared the plates with a click of his fingers.

"So… you're a phoenix?" Severus said, it was more of a statement than a question but he wanted to get the necessary and inevitable talking out of the way so he could take Hermione to his bed again.

"What was it you used to say about students and stupid questions?" Hermione responded with a smirk.

Severus rolled his eyes.

"Touché, Miss Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes right back.

"Yes. I decided to learn how to perform the animagus transformation just after the Department of Mysteries battle, just in case I needed to get a quick getaway at some point. I had a feeling it might be coming and apparition is too easily tracked."

"Very impressive. How long did it take you?"

"It took until the Easter holiday of my sixth year. I told no-one though. Sirius had explained the theory too me over the last Christmas we spent with him at Grimmauld Place. I really should get on with registering myself; as the Gryffindor Princess, and no doubt being heralded as some sort of war-heroine, the last thing I need is for Rita Skeeter to get me back."

"Rita Skeeter? I can understand her going to town on a story of you being an unregistered animagus but how would it be getting you back?"

Hermione laughed to herself.

"Of course, you wouldn't know. That bitch is also an unregistered animagus. I found out in fourth year, she's a beetle; I concealed her in a jar with an unbreakable spell on it for the whole of summer 1995 and blackmailed her with her secret to stop her writing stories about me."

Snape's eyebrows were in his hairline.

"How very Slytherin of you?"

"Yes, I thought so." Hermione agreed with self-satisfied grin.

"So, is that where you got the idea to train as an animagus?"

"A little maybe; not that I'd credit _her _with inspiring the idea. It was much more about the relief Sirius seemed to feel when he transformed, it was…"

"Freedom" Severus supplied.

"Yes. My life, up to that point had been trying to catch up on the endless possibilities that magic provides, my own nature the driving force which led me to learn everything I possibly could, just to catch up with my peers. Being muggle-born and not knowing anything about magic until I turned eleven made me feel at a distinct disadvantage to everyone else; I studied like a girl possessed just to catch up. On top of that, I met Harry and even though he is one of the greatest friends I will ever have, practically a brother really after everything we've been through, I still got dragged into this crazy war."

She took a deep breath to calm down. She hadn't planned to go off on a tangent but the subtle change into how insane her life had become riled her up. That wasn't what she was trying to achieve. She took another deep breath and remembered who she was talking to; Severus Snape was not likely to appreciate her rant.

"It all changed during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Dolohov's curse hit me at the same time as all the prophecies shattered and so the magic travelled through about forty clouds of dispersing prophetic magic. When the curse hit me, so did the prophecies; I assume they were dragged into me by his curse but rather than the freezing of my blood which I was told later should have been the effect of the curse, my blood was suffused with escaped prophecies. Without the orbs that held them, they needed a new host and I was it. On the night when the wizarding world finally became aware that Voldemort was back, the night that Harry and Dumbledore were exonerated, I became something of an oracle."

Severus' eyes were wide at this point.

"How do you know that you are an oracle and not a seer?"

"I did my research." She smirked.

"Of course you did." Snape responded, rolling his eyes.

"I had been injected with the voices, the magic of centuries of powerful seers. The combination of prophecies and Dolohov's curse is, for the want of a better word, experimental. The curse was of his own making so I've been told and so very little is known about it, other than the tests that were done on me at St Mungo's. I'm the first to survive it."

"Something you have in common with Potter then."

She nodded.

"So this oracle ability is how you knew of my true loyalties?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Everything you put into those memories for Harry, the seers whispered them to me, the prophecies showed me. At first I couldn't control it but I found that once I learned to transform into a phoenix, they were easier to switch on and off. I've also discovered that it is only when a decision is made that I have a vision of that decision's outcome. It was last week, while we were hiding out in the Forest of Dean that I had the vision of you dying. I cried for you, all night I cried. I was the only one who knew you were a good man, an innocent man, forced into this role of Order spy _and_ Death Eater henchman, of you having to hide your entire life, personal thoughts and feelings behind occlumency shields, having to sacrifice your hopes and dreams for the sake of saving Harry and defeating Voldemort, it didn't seem fair for you to have to sacrifice your life as well. I couldn't allow it, I wouldn't allow it.

"You are a formidable and compassionate witch, Hermione. I truly do not deserve you." Snape said shakily, a tear in his eye.

"What you deserve, no one is capable of providing but I'd like to try. The tears I cried for you on the night of your vision, those are the tears I used to save you. It seems the magic of my phoenix is present even in my human form. I think possibly that the soul-mate thing might have something to do with that too. Perhaps no one else could have saved you. I knew, thanks to the visions the exact moment to save many people; Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks… erm, Nymphadora Lupin actually, and you. That's where I went when I first left you after saving you; I was on quite the tight schedule… to save them all."

"So you had the whole battle planned? You knew exactly what was to come?"

"Not everything but a lot of it. Enough to kill Dolohov and Greyback; enough to thoroughly enjoy watching Molly Weasley kill Bellatrix and enough to give Neville the push he needed to kill Nagini."

"That was quite the plan. And the Dark Lord?"

"Yes it was and I made sure Harry was well equipped with an easy target. Something even I hadn't expected to be so easy but I had help… very special, very ancient, very _Hogwarts_ help."

"Oh?" Severus asked, more curious than he'd ever been in his life.

"Yes but I'll tell you about that after dessert, I'm craving chocolate. Do you think Weston will mind?"

He smiled indulgently at her but only for a moment before that smile morphed into a roguish grin.

"Weston."

There was a slight pop as Weston appeared and Severus spoke to him without taking his eyes from Hermione.

"Weston, we are ready for dessert. Something chocolatey at Miss Granger's request; something rich warm and sticky would be my choice."

"Yes sir." The elf said with a slight smile that he understood his Master's plans.

"And Weston, please serve us in the Master Suite."

"Of course sir." And the elf popped away.

"Come, Miss Granger. After the last few years and having to put up with me, you deserve a massage."

He stood, holding out his hand, which she gladly took, smiling at the warmth and respect in his eyes as he pulled her close and turned on the spot, apparating them into the bedroom.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was a job and a half to get written and the explanations and reveals have been a very long time coming. I really couldn't hold back any longer. Obviously, there are more revelations to come but what kind of Slytherin would I be if I gave you everything in one go?**


	16. Chapter 16 - After Dinner Prince

**A/N: Once more it has taken me far too long to return to this story… the plots are forming and reforming, twisting, turning and basically choosing not to settle. However, I have been feeling the call of Severus for a few days now and so decided to put fingers to keys and let him out to play. This idea literally came to me last week and has been bubbling away in my consciousness and so today I present…**

* * *

Chapter 16 – After Dinner Prince

The ascent up the stairs was silent, with the exception of shallow breathing at the anticipation of a few more hours spent in each other's passionate embrace, Severus leading his young lover by the hand. Hermione planned to jump straight into his arms the second the bedroom door closed behind them. He, on the other hand, planned to close the door by slamming her against it, pulling her legs up around his waist and turning her into a puddle of need with one frenzied, searing kiss.

Neither was to quite get their way as they reached the pinnacle of the stairs, Hermione's Gryffindor courage roared and she reached out with her free hand to do something she had wanted to do for longer than she cared to admit – she pinched the gorgeously muscled arse of her ex potions professor.

Severus spun toward her on the long landing, just as she reached the top step.

"Are your Gryffindor tendencies so out of control, Miss Granger, that you are incapable of restraining such lewd impulses until we reach the bedroom?" Severus asked. His face decidedly showing the disgruntled expression Hermione remembered from being in his class. If not for his eyes, blown wide with lust, she'd almost believe he was going to take house points.

Catching on quickly, whether it was his game or not, she decided to make it one….

"I'm so sorry, _Professor_; I won't do it again. I just had to try it once; I've wanted to for so long now, you see. Please, _Professor_; please don't take points from Gryffindor. I'll do… _anything."_

Hermione sensed the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes as he either accepted her premise or delighted in her catching on to his. Later, they would both argue that their favourite roleplay had been their own idea - stubbornness was a trait rife in both Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Severus waved a hand at her as he backed himself against the wall, wandlessly and wordlessly transfiguring her clothes into a very small, very tight version of her old school uniform – grey pleated skirt covering only the bare essentials, crisp white shirt lacking buttons but tied under her chest, and a black robe, complete with Gryffindor crest hanging open. Looking down, Hermione realised with a gasp that in addition to transfiguring her clothes, in that single hand gesture, Severus had also vanished her knickers. _That's at least three spells in one go – the man really is brilliant, _Hermione thought.

When she looked back up, Hermione realised her lover had also altered his own clothing; he stood with his back ramrod straight, arms folded across his chest, glowering at her just as he had done for years previously; his iconic and intimidating black robes covering every into of him, except for his face and his hands. The only difference from the past being the wicked gleam in his eyes as he curled the index finger of his outstretch right hand and beckoned her toward him.

"On your knees, Miss Granger." Severus demanded in the most acerbic facsimile of his former self he could muster.

Despite knowing they were playing a game and that her former professor actually did care for her, maybe even love her, Hermione still had to fight the shiver caused by even the act of him being so formidable with her. She also had to fight, tooth and nail to suppress the grin that threatened to betray her supposed-to-be-contrite face. All those hours spent imagining this in his classroom and it was finally happening.

"Yes, sir." She replied, slowly taking the five or six steps to where he stood, feigning fear.

She noticed as she descended to an upright kneeling position that the bulge before was already impressive and threating to break free of its fabric prison.

"If I must instruct you further Miss Granger, you do not deserve the title of 'Brightest Witch of her Age' and I will deduct points for falsifying yourself as such as well as making me explain myself and for failing to prepare. Do you understand?"

His tone dripped with distaste and Hermione shuddered at the artificial disgust of his tone; it was strange that it should feel comfortable to hear it, like something felt right with the world again if he was acting so 'Snape-ish'. It caused a deluge of wet heat to pool between her legs and she let out a low moan to display his effect on her; not needing to look up at his face to know a smirk of supreme smugness was in place. _Slytherins, _she thought, burying the urge to roll her eyes.

Determined to show off her own wandless skill, despite her surging lust, Hermione waved her own hand over the fabric in front of her and all fabric surrounding his beautifully rigid erection vanished; a foot wide circle of his delicious flesh exposed, framed by the remaining fabrics of his robes.

Leaning forward, Hermione licked the bead of moisture from the tip, allowing her tongue to wiggle for a second longer than necessary in the weeping slit. Snape growled a little above her and she had to fight a smirk of her own as she ran her tongue, flattened, up from base to tip before sliding her lips over the head and constricting her mouth to pulse quickly over it; her tongue painting small circles where head met shaft.

Severus's breath hitched in his throat as her mouth descended his shaft, slowly.

_I'm getting head from Hermione Granger. Good head. Sweet Salazar, this girl is amazing at everything."_

"Good girl, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Hermione smiled a little around her mouthful, slowly dragging back up, teeth lightly grazing against his sensitive and engorged muscle.

"Ten, sir?" Hermione asked; an innocent look on her face. "I think we can do better than that." The innocent expression on her face vanished into a wicked grin as she descended once more; this time bringing one hand up to massage, tickle and tease at his tightening balls.

She alternated for several minutes between teasing and determined, her head bobbed up and down first vigorously, then with languid patience, finally settling on a fast rhythm, every third descent pushing him deep into her throat and holding him there until her eyes almost watered, then with a quick swallow and hum to add to his sensations, she ascended once more.

Unable to take her teasing for much longer, Snape thrust his hands into mass of curly chestnut hair that obscured the vision of his own body from the waist down and made to hold her steady to fuck her mouth. At first thrust however he felt the wards ripple; he rolled his eyes back in frustration.

"Shit." He murmured under his breath but not quietly enough to be unheard by the witch at his feet. Hermione pulled herself back and for the first time since their landing tryst had begun, looked at him.

"What is it?" She asked, confused that his face was not lost in the throes of ecstasy she wanted her ministrations to bring him.

"The wards." He explained, not meeting her eye. "My mother is here."

Hermione's eyes went wide and she made to stand up. Snape, however, seemed to have other idea.

"One hundred points to Gryffindor if you can finish what you started before we are discovered." He said with amusement lacing every word; his hand pressing onto her shoulder to return her to her position.

"But…"

"But nothing. I am still tied to Hogwarts, the offer of house points is genuine and I cannot greet my mother like this." He gestured to his still rock solid erection.

Hermione seemed to gather herself for a moment before giving the staircase a slightly unsure look; when her eyes returned to Severus however it was with a determined look …

"Yes sir." She said with way too excitement at the prospect of besting his challenge.

Hermione took to her new 'assignment' with gusto. She gave too cursory bobs of her head before taking him deep, hollowing her cheeks and sucking like her life depended on it until her eyes crossed. Her hand reached up to tug gently on his balls, once, twice, three times and she let two fingers push just against the flesh behind his sack, pulsing as she kept him locked into the back of her throat.

He gripped her shoulders as she held him in this state of deep suction, ball tease and perineum massage until he exploded into her throat, gasping for breath as a low growl escaped him.

"Sevvy, darling… are you here? It's your mother. Are you in the library?" A feminine voice from the lower floor; it seemed vaguely familiar to Hermione but she couldn't place it. She shook the notion off that she would be familiar with Severus's mother. It wasn't possible that she could be.

_Snape has a mum; weird._

"That was quick. Good job I know what I'm doing, huh?" Hermione sassed, entirely too pleased with herself.

Snape smirked at her.

"Go and make yourself a little more presentable." He said, waving her into the bedroom before transfiguring his clothes back into something a little more casual than teaching robes with a hole charmed out of them at the crotch. He descended the stairs.

* * *

"Good evening, mother. It's good to see you."

"Don't you come all that distant and untouchable stuff with me, Severus. I'm your mother and I thought you were dead, I deserve a damn hug."

"Yes mother." He said stiffly, reaching his arms out around his mother just inside the library.

Eileen Prince returned the embrace of her son stiffly but with an affection tap on the shoulder.

"What are you doing here, mother? Is everything well at the castle?"

"Everything is fine, dear. Minerva has the whole castle in hand. I think everyone is more afraid of her than they ever were of Albus… she's formidable. I always did like her."

"Of course you did." He said smirking before realising he really should let his mother know they had company. "Erm… mother… we have a guest."

"I know dear, I overheard Mr Potter telling Minerva that Miss Granger was with you. The only logical place you would come is here. Where is the dear girl? I'd like to thank her for saving my dear boy's life." She said, squeezing Severus's cheek as only his mother could get away with.

"She'll be down soon. We, erm… weren't expecting you." He said, a little shamefully at almost getting caught. A tinge of pink highlighting his cheeks which only Eileen Prince was capable of provoking. It did not go unnoticed.

"Severus Tobias Snape." She exclaimed in a sharp, incredulous voice. "If you have corrupted that sweet young girl… Severus she saved your life! "

"Mother, it's not like that. We're…"

"Sevvy, darling…" his mother placated, her tone softening. "She's half your age. I know you're a good man and clearly she does too but our world will not look kindly on this."

"I don't care what everyone else says about Severus and I, Mrs Snape. There is no one else in the world, magical of muggle that I would ever consider…" Hermione's voice heralded, determined from the door but came to an abrupt halt at the woman standing across the library. "Madam Pince?"

"Good evening, Miss Granger. Eileen Prince." The older witch said, offering out her hand to be shaken.

"But… but… what?" Hermione stuttered, even as she took the proffered hand of whom was essentially now her mother-in-law.

"Give her a second, mother. Your arrival caught us unawares and your identity is more than likely a little surprising but Hermione isn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing."

Eileen nodded, smiling at her son.

"Weston." The Prince matriarch called. "Tea, please, Weston." She added when the elf appeared, not giving him chance to greet her as he would like.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Erm…" Hermione said tentatively from her place still quite near the door. "Could I have a little firewhiskey instead please, Weston. I think I need it."

"Of course Miss." The elf replied as Snape let out a deep blast of laughter and Eileen snickered to herself.

"Irma Pince…" Hermione began tentatively, "is an anagram… of… of either 'I'm a Prince' or 'I am Prince'. Oh Merlin, how did I not see it before?" her voice getting more animated. "Of course you're his mother and of course you'd be protected by Hogwarts. Severus would've made sure of that, not to mention Dumbledore. And I can see where he gets his love of books from now, I mean of course you're his mother; I can see it. The dark eyes, the height, the brooding over thoughtlessness, whether it's about quiet in the potions class or quiet in the library, it's still a similarity I should've picked up on. Oh this makes so much sense. Does anyone else know?" she asked to both of them.

"The staff of course." Eileen explained. "Minerva and I have been close for years. We attended Hogwarts together you know? She was two years ahead of me and we played opposite each other on the Quidditch pitch. I was a Ravenclaw seeker."

"Wow. That's amazing Madam… erm… what should I call you?" Hermione asked, a confused look marring her features.

"Well, officially I am still Madam Snape but given the past I prefer to go by my maiden name, although with you knowing me by my pseudonym, I think it may be safest for you to call me Eileen."

"Well, it's lovely to meet you, Eileen… officially I mean. And I suppose if we've moved onto a first name basis, you should start calling me Hermione. I'm no longer a student; at least not at the moment. I want to return for my N.E. ."

"Hermione, I want to thank you for saving my darling Sevvy, here. He's such a good boy and now he gets to live a free life again, thanks to you."

"Mother." Severus warned Eileen for the sickly sweet endearments she used.

"Hush, darling. The ladies are talking now." She said linking arms with Hermione. "You can join us if you want to but keep your snarkiness to yourself. I'm sure Hermione has had quite enough of it to last her a lifetime."

"I think I like your mum, _Sevvy_." Hermione sassed as Eileen led her to the seating area of the library.

"Don't," Severus began sharply as Eileen laughed at the Gryffindor girl's bravery, "…call me Sevvy. She only gets away with it because she's my mother. And mother, please for the love of Merlin, don't encourage her."

He stalked out of the library and toward his private potions lab with the familiar air of displeasure and Hermione had no doubt that if he was wearing robes they would be billowing; leaving the two most important witches in his life to get better acquainted, hoping they didn't cook anything up between them other than more embarrassing endearments.

* * *

The first fifteen minutes of conversation were taken up with war stories, light on details to not bring the mood down. Weston had brought the bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses, at Eileen's request as the conversation turned more personal.

"So, I got the impression from Severus before you came downstairs that there is more going on between you than a professor/student relationship."

Hermione blushed at the memory of their activities and wardrobe just before Eileen's arrival.

"Well yes. It was completely unexpected but… well, I've had a bit of a crush since my second year and after everything that he sacrificed, everything he went through, how could I not fall…" Hermione stopped abruptly at the wide eyes and dropped jaw of her companion.

"You're in love… with my Sevvy?" The older witch asked incredulously.

"Erm… well, actually, yes." Hermione said in a very small voice; her cheeks scarlet and her eyes dropping to her knees.

"Oh, Miss Granger; you dear sweet girl. What have you let yourself in for?" Eileen asked rhetorically, smiling.

"I know he's not the easiest man in the world to love but I don't seem to have any trouble with doing so. I've forgiven him being… terse with me in the past, I know it was all part of the act; an exaggerated level of distaste of everything around him while he walked such a knife edge. It's part of why I saved him, so he would know he is truly forgiven and that I understand. I want him to feel comfortable with me, safe and free to be himself. I'm not sure when he last had that, if ever as an adult and it breaks my heart that he's lost half his life to battle of good versus evil. It's not fair and I intend to give him every happiness I can possibly offer, whether he lets me or not."

Eileen was in tears by the end of Hermione's speech and the young witch comforted her unknowing mother-in-law with a side-on hug before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry, Eileen. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, you haven't sweetheart. It's just that… well, I never hoped Severus could find such an understanding witch, especially after his associations with darkness and Slytherin. You have such a pure and open heart dear, and I am sure deep down my Severus is extremely honoured that you're gifting him with it. After what that Lily girl did to him… cutting him off after one burst of temper; I was livid with her until the day she died. Perhaps I should not speak ill of the dead dear but well, it still gets my goat."

"I understand Eileen, honestly. I mean he's your son and he was hurt. Of course you felt protective of him and his feelings. I obviously don't think of her with the same loathing given whom _her_ son is but I can appreciate your point of view and Severus's."

"Thank you Hermione. That is very mature of you… and generous."

Hermione gave a half-laugh, half-sigh as she looked into the older witch's eyes.

"Maturity was foisted upon me unfortunately when I…"

"Nonsense." Eileen interrupted. "You were always a mature young girl, and so studious. I remember keeping the library open past curfew just for your studying and that was back in second year."

"In my defence, I was trying to figure out what was petrifying students."

"Which is why the book where you found the answer came directly from my private collection; I placed it in your pile of tomes when you went to the bathroom.

"What? Really?"

"Of course, dear. It was quite obvious to me that it would be you and your friends who had to save us all from that nasty basilisk. Sadly, prophesies are a nightmare to get out of once the ball gets rolling and by then it already was. I was at school with Tom Riddle, he was the year above me; I was there the day they took Myrtle's body out of the bathroom."

"Oh, Merlin, that's…; does Severus know?"

"He knows I was at Hogwarts at the same time. He doesn't know that Myrtle was my cousin.

"What?" Hermione's eyebrows shot into her hairline.

"Sadly she was thought to be a squib at a young age and sent to be raised by muggles, times as they were back then my aunt and uncle were embarrassed by her supposed lack of magic. It was 1937, I was eight and she was seven; I'd been spouting accidental magic for three years, she hadn't so much as fluttered the pages of a book. The family used me as a yard-stick for our generation of magic and then one day she just wasn't there and no one mentioned her name. I asked about a month after her disappearance about her and both my parents and hers looked at me like I had gone round the twist. It seems everyone involved was obliviated except for me, it's illegal to obliviate under the age eleven and as I was only eight when the adoption happened, it was assumed I wouldn't remember anyway; records were magically wiped or sealed and it was all forgotten about. Eventually her accidental magic showed but by then she was ten years old you see and it was three years later. She got called to Hogwarts under her adopted muggle name and was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Aren't you a Ravenclaw though? Surely you must have recognised her."

"Yes, I was; and I still am I suppose. I didn't recognise her at the sorting ceremony when she started the year after I did but it the common room later she looked a little scared so I went over to her to see if I could calm her down. I'm sure you remember what the first night at the castle is like."

"Of course. Exciting, petrifying with the constant fear that with the size of the place you're going to get lost or that you might fall off the top of the moving staircase."

"Quite. Of course the vacuum spell in the centre of the stairwell stops that happening but as a first year it takes a while to learn that." Eileen said, her lips smiling for the first time since the beginning of her story.

"So what happened when you realised it was her?"

"A very good question," echoed the deep, baritone resonance of Severus from the door. Both witches jumped.

"Oh, Severus darling, you scared me."

"Don't play innocent with me, mother. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice dripping with genuine disdain now that Hermione hadn't seen for a while.

"It was all in the past darling. I wanted to tell you but I was sworn to secrecy. That night Myrtle and I spoke for several hours, catching up and finding out about each other. I explained a lot about the castle to her and helped her unpack her trunk. It was nice. The next morning, I went to see the Headmaster, it was Armando Dippet at the time; he told me that there were no such records pertaining to Myrtle being of the Prince family and that I should stop feeding the rumour mill and making things up; no one believed us but we knew the truth; we remembered each other. I tried speaking to my parents again and Myrtle's parents but of course they were non-the-wiser and had a similar opinion to the Headmaster; I was grounded all Christmas that year.

When I returned to Hogwarts after Christmas, I was summoned to Dumbledore's office. He was teaching Transfiguration then and I was worried about the essay I'd handed in just before the holidays so I went without question." Eileen took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Once I was there, he warded the door and we sat down. He told me he was aware of my familial connection to Myrtle Warren, that he had connections within the Ministry and knew that I'd been asking questions. Apparently Dippet must have spoken to him."

"Can that man not stay out of anyone's business?" Severus said in a highly frustrated tone.

"He had to hone the skill somewhere darling." Eileen tried to placate her son before continuing. "Anyway, I was told in his kindly but brokering no argument sort of way that he would continue to make discreet inquiries and work to have the matter resolved on my behalf; I was given permission to remain close to Myrtle but I could not speak of it to anyone else in case anyone wanted to stop the truth coming to light; which would put both Myrtle and myself in danger."

"Who would want it not to come to light? How would it become dangerous? In light of what happened to her, surely her being a pureblood rather than a muggleborn might have prevented her death." Hermione asked, desperate for more information.

"Yes it probably would have but there's a snippet of the story that you don't know yet. Something I have never spoken of, to anyone." Eileen said, sadly before looking at her son with wary eyes.

"Spit it out, mother. You've kept these secrets long enough." Severus clipped.

Eileen took several deep breaths and avoided her sons eyes altogether, focusing on Hermione.

"I don't really know how to say this but…"

"It's ok, Eileen." Hermione said, grasping the older witch's hands in her lap. "Whatever it is, we're here for you and whatever has happened is never beyond forgiveness. Just look at all the nasty comments I've forgiven Severus for. It can't be worse than that."

Eileen gave a weak smile to Hermione for her understanding and kindness as Severus snorted.

"Ok, well, in my third year, I started dating someone."

Severus paled in understanding.

"You have to understand, he was very charming. So, very attractive and I…"

"I don't think I can listen to this." Severus said, standing to walk for the door.

"Severus Snape," Hermione began with a very sharp tone… standing up, hands on her hips and eyes flashing with fury. "If you walk out on this story you will never forgive yourself and I will never let you hear the end of it. Eileen needs to be able to remove this secrecy from her life. It is clearly a heavy burden which needs to be lifted. Surely Severus you know what that feels like. Don't you dare walk away."

Severus sighed and turned back around causing Hermione's tone and stance to soften but she wasn't done.

"Think about how it has felt in the last few days to know that I know your secrets. That you don't have to carry them alone. To have them lifted from your shoulders and shared. You have been so much happier than I've ever seen you the last couple of days and I know that can largely be attributed to the disintegration of snake-face but I hope in some small way it's because of me. Given our situation, it had better be."

"Very well, Hermione, you've made your point. I'll stay. Just promise to obliviate me afterwards, I know where this is going."

"I'll think about. If you promise to keep giving Gryffindor house points." She replied, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirked at her and then gestured for his mother to continue.

"Ok, so as I said, in my third year I started dating someone; the very young, very handsome and very charming, Tom Riddle."

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**A/N: So here we are at the end of another chapter. Honestly I could run and run on this little bit of back story I came up with. The chapter didn't go anywhere near how I planned; it was going to be much more light-hearted with a couple of hilarious jokes which I'll probably bring in later with a different character – maybe Harry. Anyway, hope you all like it… please review, favourite and follow (all the good things for loyal Slytherins to do).**

**A couple of things to mention, I have taken a little artistic licence with Eileen Prince; although it's common for her to be considered Snape's mother, I have changed her house and her sporting prowess of the past - I like the idea that she has been friends with Minerva since school, I like that it was Ravenclaw that nurtured her love of books which led to the natural choice that her seclusion being spent as the Hogwarts Librarian. There is a lot more of her story to come and it will feed some drama for our lovebirds. I haven't taken hundreds of liberties from canon as I the original story is wonderful and I hate to mess with it too much but sometimes it's necessary to change a few things for my little trope-fest tale. The specific reason I made Eileen and Minerva friends is because I was felt that Minerva took Snape a little under her wing considering he was a Slytherin and this would be an amazing reason why. Also, when she evicted him from the school at the beginning of The Battle of Hogwarts, that's all she did, evicted him; she didn't shoot to kill (so to speak).**

**P.S… I know it's another cliff hanger but honestly, it's me, you should be used to them by now. :D **


	17. Chapter 17 - The Tale of Eileen and Tom

**A/N: First of all I would like to thank everyone for their reviews and continued support. I know my evil cliff hangers are just that… evil but I really can't help myself; these things have to be done.**

**Next, I'd like to specifically give a few shout outs to my rabid readers…**

**Lucyole**** for continuously sending me sweet treats for inspiration in reviews. Very much appreciated. The title of this chapter is named after words from you last review.**

**ACupples**** and ****Tempest E Dashon**** for always leaving amusing and flattering reviews.**

**ZoeyOlivia**** for having commented on every chapter of every fic I am working on; your loyalty knows no bounds. **

**And lastly, my two newest frequent reviewers – ****Slytherclaw Black**** and ****R.V ****.Wells. Your words have been very encouraging and I am very happy to have your thoughts.**

* * *

Chapter 17 – The Tale of Eileen and Tom

Eileen Prince sighed deeply in resignation. It was time. He was gone now. Her precious son was safe. They were all safe from the emotionless void of darkness that was the presence of Tom Riddle.

"Before I tell you both the truth, I must ask you honey," she faced Severus, "do you completely trust Miss Granger to know what I am about to reveal?"

Severus looked incredulous. Hermione had been more caring to him, more understanding and accepting toward him than anyone he had ever known. She expected nothing from him and gave more than he could ever ask for. Upon being asked by his mother about the level of trust he placed in the young witch he had brought to his safest haven, he realised that he trusted her implicitly; more so than he had ever trusted anyone.

"Mother, I trust Hermione with my life. She has proven more than equal to the task of securing its continuation."

"Oh sweetheart." Eileen said softly in a tone of beautiful motherly pride, reaching out a hand for her son but she pulled it back just as her fingers were about to close around Severus's hand. Hermione had hurled herself out of her seat, quick as lightning and thrown her arms around Severus in a crushing embrace and he heard a strangled sob escape her. He returned the hug without hesitation, wrapping his arms around her as he heard her whisper to him.

"No matter what this is about, I am always, _always_ going to be here for you. Please, never have any fear that I will run from you. Regardless of what revelations may come today or in the future; I am yours, Severus Snape and you are well and truly stuck with me. I couldn't let you go now even if I wanted to."

Severus fought to keep a tear of his own from his eye as he squeezed her tighter for a long moment before letting her go. _What on earth did I ever do to deserve such devotion? Certainly nothing seems sufficient to be gifted the heart of such an amazing witch._

When Hermione returned to her seat, they both turned to look at Eileen expectantly.

"Ok, sweetheart… I want to preface this by saying the only other person who knows the entire truth of what I am about to reveal is Minerva McGonagall. She is truly the most amazing friend I could have ever asked for; she has kept my secrets and protected you, darling, better than I could have ever imagined."

Hermione smiled, nodding; expectant but not wanting to push.

Severus's brow dropped into a slight frown as he waited with baited breath but gave a cut nod. The tension was rolling off him in waves, Hermione could feel it.

"Now, where to begin… I suppose it all started in 1938, the year I started Hogwarts, Tom was in his second year by then and it didn't take long to notice he was one of the most popular students… with the teachers and the other students alike; Slughorn was particularly fond of him. Tom received a lot of sympathy considering he was an orphan but he didn't lack confidence or seem in need of the sympathy by the time I was aware of him. There was a little stigma attached to Slytherin at that time but nothing like what it grew into later so the fact that he was ambitious and studious was what shone about him; he was performing NEWT level magic by the end of that year; he was…" she trailed off with a distant look in her eyes.

Severus and Hermione sat for a moment in silence, allowing Eileen to reminisce or collect herself, whatever she needed to do to continue. This seemed to be settling into being a long tale and they would all need to keep their focus.

"He was brilliant." Eileen suddenly continued. "All the girls were enamoured by his abilities, not to mention he was growing into quite the attractive young man; honing his charm, intelligence and power. He never seemed to have a girlfriend though; he'd been seen with a few Slytherin girls but nothing that resembled a relationship. For a boy who looked and acted the way he did, it was quite surprising; all the other Slytherin boys, just as confident and clever as him had girlfriends. I decided, in my infinite wisdom at the age of fourteen, that I wanted to fill that role. So in 1941, I approached a friend of his… Abraxas Malfoy, for… advice."

"That was Draco's grandfather, right?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yes," Eileen continued. "Abraxas seemed to find my interest in his friend amusing but agreed to help me get Tom alone in exchange for my assistance with his homework for the remainder of the school year. Slytherins!" the witch said in mock exasperation, rolling her eyes. "Never willing to do something out of the goodness of their heart."

Severus cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes, I know dear; you were very selfless and brave." His mother said in feigned dismissal of his accomplishments. "Perhaps you should have been a Gryffindor, sweetheart."

Snape grunted his disapproval.

"I'd have fallen for you regardless of your house, Severus." Hermione whispered to him, blushing. "It's that voice of yours that gets me. I get shivers every single time you speak."

"I was the same way, Hermione. With Tom." Eileen interrupted. "I still don't know how Abraxas set it up; neither of them would speak of it but about two weeks after the initial conversation, Tom Riddle, the Slytherin prefect approached me in the library. He asked me if I would quiz him while he studied for his OWLs. I vowed to myself to make sure he and Abraxas got 'Outstanding' marks in every subject. I was nervous but beyond excited that he was even talking to me."

"Please spare me the details of your… excitement, mother. I don't think my stomach can take it."

"Severus…" his mother warned. "I am not discussing my sex-life. I was fourteen."

He stayed silent. Hermione smiled at his discomfort but put a reassuring hand on his knee.

"For a month, all we did was study together. I quizzed him from my own knowledge and the text books he was studying with. He never stuttered over a correct answer, never hesitated nor needed time to think before giving detailed answers that enhanced the wisdom of the books. I was in awe."

Hermione chanced a sideways glance at Severus. He was looking curious but suspicious as his gaze never left his mother's face and the young witch wondered if he was thinking the same as she was… that the description Eileen was giving sounded a lot like Severus himself.

"It was just after Halloween when he actually asked me out; well, to Hogsmeade, which is as close to being asked out as you can at a magical boarding school. And so, on the 6th November 1941, I had my first date with Tom Riddle."

"Did you have a good time?" Hermione wanted to know despite who Eileen's date had been.

"We did; he brought me a bouquet of quills, stating that they lasted longer than flowers and were more useful. I remember thanking him by kissing him on the cheek and telling him that he made a very good point. I told him that they were beautiful and that I'd make sure to put them in a vase of ink when I got back to the castle. He actually laughed at my silly little joke and I was literally on top of the world in that moment."

"Awwwwww," Hermione cooed in that girly way only women can do when they're thinking of a man being romantic.

"Please remember who we're talking about, ladies." Snape interjected, not comfortable that his lover and his mother were swooning over Voldemort.

"As if I'm likely to forget." Eileen said in a stiff tone, successfully stifling the sweet moment she had been reliving.

Hermione felt adequately chastised for going all gooey over something Voldemort had done on a first date. It was actually quite laughable though, to imagine him holding out a bouquet of feathery quills, all wrapped up in ribbons and pretty parchments.

"Well, the rest of the date went quite well. We visited most of the shops in Hogsmeade, had lunch at the Three Broomsticks with Minerva and the boy she was dating, Charlus Potter actually, if I remember correctly.

"Minerva dated someone from Harry's family? Ooooo, she kept that quiet. Just wait till I see her" Hermione asked rhetorically as she snorted out a very unfeminine laugh.

Eileen and Severus joined in with the laughter.

"So how long were you seeing Tom Riddle?" Severus asked, unable to say 'Voldemort' in relation to someone his mother had spent leisure time with.

"We were together for seven years," Eileen stated in a rush, trying to say it quickly. "We were even… engaged for the last year of that relationship."

"Whaaaaat?" Hermione shrieked, no longer able to keep her calm.

"Calm down dear, the engagement didn't last. When he started to show his true colours, I went to Minerva, and… Albus. They took me into hiding in the muggle world, changed my appearance and my name. Gave me this necklace…" Eileen fingered a Sapphire pendant at her collarbone, "… to keep the glamour in place without me having to keep renewing it."

"So how did you go from hiding in the muggle world to being the librarian at Hogwarts? You told me it was escape father after he discovered you were a witch." Snape said slowly, not really wanting his suspicions confirmed, either than his mother had lied to him or that his father was not Tobias Snape.

Eileen took a deep breath and stared at her son regretfully before she cast her eyes down and whispered, "It was."

Neither member of Eileen's now rapt audience spoke at her confession, waiting to hear more explanation, more detail.

"I successfully hid from Tom Riddle in the muggle world for almost five years. When he found me, I was working in a muggle library just outside of Caithness, where Minerva grew up. Albus wanted me to stay in Scotland which I suppose made sense but with apparition it doesn't really make much difference; Minerva wanted me as far from the young Voldemort as possible, who was operating out of London at the time, still working at Borgin and Burke's or so Albus had told me."

"Yes, he told Harry about Voldemort working at Borgin and Burke's." Hermione confirmed. "So what happened when he found you?"

"Well many things happened. He didn't appear to be angry as I suspected he would be, although having known him for a long time, I could tell he was only being 'nice' to get me back. He never liked to lose things he considered his and in his mind, I was his. He began following me and not at a distance; he was relentless, possessive, unstoppable.

It took six months though for him to finally get me to agree to have drinks with him… I knew what that meant." She sighed. "It may surprise you know, Hermione, as you never knew him before his resurrection, that as a young man, Tom Riddle, as much as he had an unquenchable thirst for power and supremacy, was a man much like any other." Eileen carefully made sure her eyes were nowhere near her son, keeping her gaze firmly on Hermione. "With needs." She finished.

Severus made a gagging sound to which Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course he was. I assume an impaired soul doesn't affect…" Hermione cringed as she continued, "… bloodflow."

"Exactly. I went with him willingly; having learnt years before that it was much easier than attempting to fight him and he was much stronger at this point than when I had known him before."

Eileen took a few breaths, steadying her nerves as she prepared to continue. She had dreaded this story reaching her son's ears, had been petrified for years that Voldemort would relay it to Severus in a fit of temper. It seemed though, that he had not; _thank Merlin for small mercies_, she thought.

"When does my father come into this? It's beginning to sound like he doesn't." Severus asked, beginning to lose his patience with his mother's inability to get to the point. How she kept a lid on her real personality to impersonate a no-nonsense librarian he would never know.

"Ah yes, Tobias Snape. I'll get to that story soon enough, darling. You may want to summon a calming draught for that part."

"I'll stick to the firewhiskey," he replied, gesturing to his glass.

"Ok, darling but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Just get on with it… what happened?"

"I'm getting there…. I'm getting there… now, after that first drink with Riddle, in which he showered me with false apologies and seductive promises, all laced with his personal brand of Slytherin charm, I'm ashamed to say I fell for it and started to see him again regularly. I had not been involved with anyone else since I'd been in hiding and I was lonely. Albus and Minerva had advised against seeing someone anyway but I had no inclination during the time I was hidden. It turns out there was a reason for that… unbeknownst to me, during our initial courtship, Riddle had performed a blood binding between us, meaning I was incapable of becoming aroused by anyone but him."

Hermione gasped, her eyes bulging, her mouth dropped wide.

Severus grimaced, feeling sick.

"I found this out a year into our second attempt at a relationship when I believed myself in love. He kept most of his dark tendencies away from my knowledge; I assume because he wanted to stop me from running again but also because, he told me, he liked that I kept his bed warm for him. I told him one night, in an attempt to soothe him when he was feeling particularly… cantankerous, that I had never wanted anyone else, never been with anyone else, never loved anyone else… that he was everything to me. The only way to get on his good side was to stroke his ego without appearing to be sucking up. He told me that my lack in other partners was his doing, that he had performed the blood rites of an ancient ceremonial hand fasting, that we were, essentially married."

Severus gave no warning before vomiting; something had clicked in his mind as his mother was speaking and he suddenly knew the rest of the story, or at least he thought he did.

"I felt the same way at that moment dear," Eileen continued as she swished her wand to clear the mess from the floor.

Hermione inched closer to him and placed her small hand in his nearest much larger one and squeezed lightly, before leaning to whisper in his ear…

"Severus, you are stronger and braver than you realise; you can face this like you've faced everything else in your life, with occlumency." He could hear the amusement in her voice and very nearly laughed at her impression of how he dealt with things. It was quite obvious to him that she was trying to calm his mood and his nerves. He felt very und, and loved. "Please remember, I'm right here next you and I'm not going anywhere. If you can handle the state of my hair after you've had your way with me, you can handle anything."

He turned to her and smiled a little before placing a kiss on her cheek.

"You're too good to me." He said quietly.

"Not possible." She responded, gazing lovingly into his eyes for a moment before slowly turning back to the other witch in the room whom was apparently Voldemort's wife. "Sorry Eileen, I didn't mean to interrupt your story, as intense as it was getting. I just felt the need to…"

"It's quite alright dear, I appreciate you tending to Severus. You'll make him a good wife."

Both Severus' and Hermione's eyebrows shot into their respective hairlines. It was one thing, to think through the possibilities of a matrimonial future in the hopeful privacy of your own mind but to hear it voiced from your own mother/future mother-in-law was quite different.

"Now, don't get your wands in knots dears, I'm just teasing. I thought it would be amusing to see your reaction, and I was right, you're expressions are highly comical."

Eileen was smiling as she watched her son's shock morph into a glare. When she looked at Hermione though, the smile was mirrored and there was something of a promise in her eyes that she planned to make him a very good wife.

"You'll get used to this side of her, Hermione," Severus said quietly through gritted teeth. "It will annoy you to no end but…" He stopped as he saw the same promise in Hermione's eyes that his mother had seen and he was suddenly breathless.

"But what, dear?"

"Nothing mother, never mind. Just get on with this story so I can get some sleep. It's getting late."

"Ok darling." Eileen placated her son. "Well, as I'm sure you can imagine, my reaction was quite similar to yours although I managed to school my expression and keep my stomach in check. You learn a thing or two about keeping most of what you really feel for Tom Riddle to yourself when he's around. I became the actress of the century to keep him on side – Meryl Streep's got nothing on me."

They all chuckled a little.

"Obviously Minerva and Albus weren't happy that I'd taken up with him again but I also became a rather useful resource as I had access to identifying some of his followers and hearing snippets of his plans. I presented myself as the doting girlfriend/fiancée and though he never truly trusted me, he let me little by little. As you know he'd never been a fan of Albus Dumbledore but things took a drastic turn in their mutual hatred for each other several years later, in 1959."

"1959? Surely my father would have been on the scene by then? It's the year I would've been conceived."

"Very astute, darling. Yes it was the year you were conceived and yes, your _father_ was on the scene."

Severus went very pale at the almost confession of his mother and Hermione gripped his arm tighter.

"Are you telling me that Tom Riddle is my biological father?" Severus asked very slowly, his hand reaching over Hermione's where she gripped his arm.

Eileen nodded, head down, feeling ashamed.

Severus leapt out of his chair and stalked to his mother, towering over her in a fury Hermione had never seen in him. She didn't move knowing it was a bad moment to step into the family drama.

"What were you thinking? How could you let that happen? To allow yourself to be defiled by that… that…"

"Severus please… let me finish before you let your anger get the better of you. You need to hear the rest of the story." Eileen pleaded without looking up at her son.

He growled in response and stepped backwards, returning to the sofa he was sharing with Hermione. The young witch tried to return her hand to his arm, to comfort him but he shook her off. Hermione felt tears burn at her eyes from the small rejection but tried not to blame him, considering what he was going through and placed her hand right next to his between them on the sofa so he could take it if he needed to, if he wanted to.

"Get on with it then." He ground out.

"I found out I was pregnant in the late Spring of 1959 – I was almost two months when I found out and was only weeks away from starting to show. When Tom found out he seemed overjoyed which piqued my curiosity; he had always been so vehement with me about contraception; it was beyond out-of-character for him to want a child but I knew better than to confront him about it and so I said nothing and allowed him to think I believed his story that the potion must have been brewed wrong. A week after he found out, he had disappeared for a few days, I suppose doing whatever Dark Lord's do in their free time… I invited Minerva over while he was gone and we did some diagnostics on my contraception potion; we both suspected it had been swapped out for fertility potion instead but Minerva took a sample of it for Albus's scrutiny."

"Was it? Fertility potion, I mean." Hermione asked.

"Of course it was." Severus answered irritably from her side.

"Severus is right. The morning Tom was due home, Albus came to visit me. He told me that the potion was one of the strongest in the world to increase fertility – a blend of herbs known for their qualities of enhancing reproduction and dark magic with ensured a successful merging of genetic material – he was very clinical in his description which was appreciated at the time."

Severus snorted.

"A plan was devised that I continue to play my role as the devoted wife of Tom Riddle until my eighth month of pregnancy, at which point I would be given a safe location to complete my pregnancy and raise my child with wards specifically designed to keep Tom out. The time passed slowly and I spent most of it very scared or very bored; he would not let me doing anything at all and when the fifth month of my pregnancy hit, I started having a lot of pain in my abdomen."

Now, Severus grabbed Hermione's hand, thankful that she had left it there.

"Tom cast several spells on me, diagnostics and healing alike and the pain subsided but his face was pale and I knew something was wrong. I asked him what was wrong, what was happening and he dropped to his knees in front of me, placed his hands on my belly and said one word… 'twins'."

"Oh. My. God." Hermione said.

"I'll second that," Severus added, "I have a twin? A brother? Where? Who?"

"A sister." Eileen said without showing any expression. "Her name is Tempest but we're not…"

"Tempest? As in Tempest Dashon? Antonin Dolohov's erm…" Severus asked, getting somewhat animated.

"Yes, that Tempest. She is your twin sister Severus."

"But… how is that possible? How did I end up growing up with you and Tobias Snape and she grew up in the Russian pureblood society?"

"Well, as I mentioned, a plan was devised for me to be taken into hiding once more; with Tom knowing I was having twins, we knew I would be too easy to find carting two children around so it was agreed that Albus would arrange cover for me and one child – you, while Minerva arranged with a relative of hers who was married into the Russian purebloods for the other child – Tempest – to be raised there and I would be able to visit."

"So you gave up a child? My sister?"

"I would not say I gave her up; I protected her from becoming her father. You have more of me in you that you care to admit but she is all him, except for her hair, you both have my hair."

"Mother, your hair is a shade under medium brown."

"You have not seen my true face since you were five years old, darling. That is when Madam Pince was created."

"So that's why I had to spend my childhood in the Hogwarts library?"

"Yes, but we're getting off topic. Everything was arranged for the day I reached thirty-eight weeks but just shy of my thirty-sixth week by a day, you and your sister decided to show up early. I sent a patronus to Albus at the school, who picked up Minerva and floo'd straight to me. By the time they arrived, you were on your way into the world, sweetpea."

"So the plan went out the window? Why do plans always do that?" Hermione asked.

"Our plans did not quite go out of the window; they got brought forward a bit that's all. As soon as you were born, sweetheart, Albus checked you over and wrapped you up. I held you for about ten minutes before the pains started again for me to deliver your sister and Albus fled to protect you. I never told you this because you were too inquisitive for your own good…" Hermione nudged him and smiled, "but Albus was your Godfather."

"Shame he didn't act like it." Severus said with barely disguised resentment. Hermione squeezed his hand.

"Now, now sweetheart; Albus did everything he could. He was in a difficult position."

"I was in a difficult position," Severus shouted. "I was playing spy for the order while risking my life under the tyranny and unstable anger of who is supposedly my own father. Speaking of whom, where did Tobias Snape come into all this?"

"Tobias Snape was an invention. He was a name created as part of the identity to keep you hidden from your father. Albus invented a muggle father for the children of Eileen Prince, kept alive by a specific type of memory charm, which built new memories into your mind every night as you slept. It started when you were five and you sat in the library with me at Hogwarts."

"So none of my memories of Tobias Snape are real? The abuse that I remember was not real? His hatred of magic was not real? When I used to creep down the stairs and see him grabbing your wand and hitting you, none of that was real? Did you do this to me? Or was it Dumbledore?"

"The painful memories are not entirely creations of imagination. I had hoped you wouldn't remember but they were altered memories from Tom's visits. He managed to find us, three times before we were finally put under a fidelius charm at Spinner's End. Minerva was secret keeper."

"Why am I only learning all of this information now?"

"Because, darling, as amazing as your occlumency is, I could not allow our identities to be found again, especially after his resurrection. The risk would have been too high."

"What happened with Tempest?" Hermione asked quietly, unable to keep her curiosity at bay any longer.

"Ah yes. Well, as I said, Albus fled and Minerva delivered Tempest but just as she was cleaning my baby girl up, Tom came home. He snatched Tempest from Minerva, ran to me and apparated us away."

"Oh my God. How did you survive? How did you explain about Severus? What did he do?" Hermione asked, panicked and frantic.

"He asked if Tempest was the first or second baby and managed to lie and say the first before passing out exhausted. When I awoke I was shackled to a bed and neither Tom nor Tempest was in sight. I screamed myself hoarse, cursing his name and begging for my daughter. No one came to me. I didn't see him for three days, that's when he attempted to obliviate me but I had been sending every memory I had created over the last week to Dumbledore via a process called bi-location. It works like an outer-body-experience, my soul literally flitted out of my body and over to Hogwarts where my memories were deposited with Albus, so he could restore them to me later."

"How did you escape?" Hermione asked.

"He let me go… obliviated. I had served my purpose, I had delivered him an heir, well, two technically. But to kill me so soon after your birth would have diminished your power, he said, so I was being released and I was never to speak of my daughter. That I would be allowed to raise you and he would raise her."

"Oh Gods, I hadn't even thought of that," Hermione said as she turned to Severus. "You're the heir of Slytherin."

"I assume you returned to Hogwarts?" Snape asked quietly.

"Yes. I stayed at the castle with you for a while as a safe house was set up and protections and then we searched for…"

_Knock, knock, knock…_

"Are you expecting anyone, darling?"

"Of course not. We are the only people who know of this location."

"Stay here..." Eileen said as she headed for the door with her wand drawn.

Hermione and Severus followed slowly behind Eileen, both with their wands drawn too as they stood near the door to the library. When they heard the words the strange woman at the door had to say, they both stopped breathing…

"You should be more careful Mother. Did Daddy dearest teach nothing about the power of a name?"

* * *

**A/N: Ok, well there we have it… the crazy roller coaster of Eileen's love life, Severus's parentage and long lost twin sister. If ever there was a story to bring in a long lost sibling, it was this crazy story right here. **

**About the cliff hanger, I would say I'm sorry but I'm really not and as everyone knows 'I must not tell lies'. **

**Now, I know there are gaping holes in this story but little things will be filled in eventually. I was trying to keep the chapter under 5k words so I could get it posted before work. If there are spelling errors, my apologies, my fingers have skirted over the keys like lightning today.**

**Hope you all enjoyed The Tale of Eileen and Tom. As always, reviews, favourites and followers are welcome…**

**For anyone interested, I have a facebook group for fans of this story, feel free to send a request... ** groups/681753442260963/

**Many blessings x**


	18. Chapter 18 - You Are My Family

**A/N: My own cliff hanger from chapter 17 has defeated me and even I can't wait to get this written which is why you haven't had to wait weeks for it. As some of you may have noticed, Snape's sister is named after one of my reviewers; that is by design. I am trying to incorporate the names of most of my regular reviewers into a least one of my fics eventually. So far there has been two house elves named after my readers, Snape's sister in this story obviously and Tempest has made a double feature, the other being a random Slytherin 6****th**** year in 'Owe You'. **

**As time progresses in all stories, I do wish to add more; if you would like to be included, please send me a private message. I am more than happy to add you as an antagonist, a love interest to someone, a house elf, maybe even a goblin if your pen name matches that type of creature. **

**Well, time to get on with the show, hold onto you magical pointy hats, a storm just blew in, will she bring thunder or just a drizzle of rain and mist?**

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Chapter 18 – You Are My Family

"Tempest? Is it really you?" Eileen asked in shock.

"I literally just told you," Hands on her hips, the dark haired, snarky witch let out a frustrated sigh. "The power of my name called me through the wards. Father taught me to use a similar 'taboo' to what he used on his. Thankfully, the fact you finally spoke my name to someone, pulled me out of the protection wards that Ant put around me – it's a fucking nightmare being with an ex-curse breaker, I couldn't leave the house. Where is he anyway?"

Eileen didn't speak, Severus and Hermione didn't move.

"Why are you being so quiet? And where is father? I know for a fact you kept tabs on him even though you were always on Dumbledore's side."

"Darling, come and sit down. I need to make a couple of introductions and explain a few things."

"What a gracious hostess you are, mother." Tempest said with very little patience as she swept towards Severus and Hermione at the open library door. "Tell me what's going on. Where are we anyway? What is this place?"

"Tempest…" Severus spoke for the first time as his sister approached him with his usual deadpan drawl. "It's been a long time."

Hermione, as she hid slightly behind him, had to stifle a smirk at his signature tone.

'_He doesn't like her', _she thought to herself. At least she thought it was to herself until she heard the softer tone of his voice echo in her head. _'No, I don't like her. She was raised by Voldemort; she is likely to be of his ideals. Her reaction to you will prove one way or the other.'_

"Ah brother, dear. I assume mother has informed you that that endearment is no longer just because we were both under father's leadership?"

"How long have you known?" Severus asked.

"I've always known. I was raised by him, taught by him, _trained_ by him. Our familial connection was kept a complete secret of course, as was your true identity but we both knew, we always knew. How do you think you escaped being avada'd for so long considering you were spying for that blithering old fool, Dumbledore? Now, I think I've answered enough of your questions until you answer some of mine… where are we? Where is the Dark Lord? And where is my gorgeous Anton? Please tell me you have an elf here, I could murder a drink." She said as she pushed past Severus, knocking him into Hermione.

"Ooooo, what do we have here?" she said, spotting the Hermione for the first time, "Timid little mouse aren't you? Hiding behind my brother. Are you some sort of maid? Brother dear, a witch rather than a house elf to serve you? How very 10th century of you."

"Miss Granger is not…" Severus began but he was cut off.

Hermione stepped from behind the protective barrier that was her lover's magnificent body, with hands on her hips and fury in her eyes to survey the woman before her who was in some ways already her sister-in-law.

She had expected the black hair; it was straight, sleek and long, magnificently and meticulously cared for, like a smooth sheet of gleaming volcanic glass; her eyes were a black as Severus's, inky pools of midnight but lacking the warmth she knew was hidden in the depths of her lover. The woman's face was formidable and very nearly expressionless, a hooked nose like her mother and brother but smaller; _at least she has a nose, unlike her father in the last few years_, Hermione thought with disgust.

Severus wanted to snort as he heard Hermione's thoughts.

"If you don't know who I am, _Daddy_ didn't tell you as much as you think." Hermione said with more confidence that she felt. She knew it was probably a bad idea to antagonise this witch but the need to defend herself was overwhelming. She calmed herself and decided to try a more friendly approach… "Hermione Granger…" she said, holding out her hand; after all with Voldemort gone and most of the Death Eaters dead, what could it hurt to play nice with her future sister-in-law, despite the hideous familial connection. "Pleased to meet you."

Tempest's eyes narrowed on Hermione before looking her up and down and Severus smirked a little at his fire-cracker witch with a will of iron and all the cunning of a Slytherin.

"The mudblood?" Tempest asked Severus with an incredulous eyebrow. "Really? I thought you had more sense. Father will never allow this. He won't have you fouling up the bloodline with _that!_" She finished with a disgusted sneer, looking like she might be sick as she gestured to Hermione.

"The Dark Lord," Hermione began to reply for Severus, stepping forward and getting into the other witch's face, "Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the great Heir of Salazar Slytherin," she continued, folding her arms over her chest as a smirk formed on her face, "_Daddy dearest_, has been defeated."

Tempest stared at Hermione is shock before flicking her eyes to Severus and then her mother in disbelief.

"Th-that's not possible. He was immortal. He'd conquered death." Tempest said, losing a little of her strong countenance to the tendrils of grief that were beginning to prickle her consciousness.

Noticing the change in demeanour, Hermione softened; letting her compassion override her dislike as she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper as if she was telling anyone else that their father had died.

"He's dead. I saw it myself. As much as I loathed him, I'm sorry for your loss. It's clear he meant so much to you and I understand how it feels to lose your father. Looking at you now, he must have done something right for you to love him enough that you're crying."

Severus wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist and whispered in her ear, "You are too good."

She turned to him and smiled, kissing his cheek chastely. "She's your sister, your family. As much as I dislike her loyalty to Voldemort, she just found out her father is dead. That's enough for me to set aside my own feelings."

"So Gryffindor." Snape said in mock distaste.

"What about Antonin?" Tempest asked, sniffling as she gathered herself. "Is he alive?"

Hermione cringed.

_Oh this isn't going to end well. Why didn't the prophecies show me this? Damn fates are messing with me. I had to kill Dolohov to save Fred. Severus will understand that but she won't. Should I even tell her? How can I not? Fuck!_

Hermione took a deep, fortifying breath before she planned to retell her story of three days earlier.

"Erm… Miss, erm…"

"Dashon." Tempest said with a scowl at Hermione. "It was a name fashioned by my father to keep the secret of my parentage."

"Right, Miss, erm… Dashon," Hermione said quickly, wanting to get this over with before she lost her nerve, "The thing is, Dolohov is gone too; a couple of days ago now, on the last day of the war, at Hogwarts. He…"

Tempest screamed in anguish.

"I'm sorry." Hermione whispered.

Tempest's face spun quickly to Hermione and she swiped at her own tears, scowling.

"Who did it? Who killed my Anton?"

Hermione cringed again and gripped Severus' hand.

"That," he said in a slow measured voice, "would be me."

_What are you doing? I'm not afraid of her Severus. Not to mention, I'm proud that I took his life to save Fred. He deserved it._

_I am proving my loyalties to you. You are my family now. She is not._

Hermione's heart filled fit to burst when Severus's words were projected into her mind. Severus Snape considering Hermione Granger to be family was more than she could've hoped for. Yes, they were bonded, but that was by accident or rather by an insane past-life curse. This was present day, Severus Snape, denying his blood family, such as they were, in order to protect her. Her smile beamed.

"Whaaaaaat?" Tempest shrieked at Severus. "My own brother killing my husband, leaving my daughter fatherless. How could you do this to me?"

"You were married? To Dolohov?" Hermione inquired, quietly but still unable to keep the smile off her face from Severus's words, despite the precariousness of the situation.

"And what are you looking so happy about, mudblood? Yes, we were married. Of course we were married. Do you think I would have a child outside of a matrimonial bond? That's not how things are done in pureblood families. Not that you'd know anything about that." Tempest said, still shrieking and crying. Then rounded on her brother.

"Just think yourself lucky I can't kill you. Salazar, in his infinite wisdom made it impossible for any of his bloodline to turn their wand on each other with the intention to kill. The magic stops the spell from firing at family. You however…" she swung back to Hermione with her wand outstretched…. "mudblood, will not be so lucky."

Quick as a flash, Severus jumped in front of Hermione and Eileen lurched for her daughter. The spell hit Severus in the stomach just as Tempest was pulled away from trying again but the magic of Tempest's 'Avada' fizzled on impact.

She rounded on her mother, wand pointed directly between Eileen's eyes.

"Your father never managed to kill me Tempest. What makes you think you can?" Eileen asked calmly.

"How dare you speak of father? You never loved him." Tempest yelled; advancing on her mother as the older witch backed up.

"Of course I loved him." Eileen admitted, drawing her own wand on her daughter. "I stayed with him for years through his violence and abuse. It wasn't until I found out the truth of his heritage and his pureblood mania that I ran. And even after that I went back to him eventually, which is how you and your brother are here. Think about that for a moment, Tempest. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. I tried to save you from him but he took you away from me. He wasn't the only one I kept tabs on, it was you as well. My magic, my heritage, my blood is in you as well." Eileen explained as she advanced back towards Tempest.

"You are a daughter of the Prince line as well as Riddle, Gaunt and Slytherin. You are _my_ daughter and I will not have you attacking or killing my future daughter-in-law, never mind me. You will behave with respect to everyone in this house as is expected of you or the wards will eject you back to where you came from."

Tempest looked taken aback by her mother's force of will, but stood her ground and did not lower her wand in the face of Eileen's temper.

"Now, I think it's time for a drink and we will all talk like the civilized adults we are supposed to be." She said as she walked back to sofas of her earlier discussion with Severus and Hermione and took a seat. "Wands away."

Hermione and Severus took their places on the same sofa as earlier, eyeing Tempest warily while Tempest herself took one of the wingback chairs right by the fire.

"Weston," Severus called, and the elf popped into view, bowing. "A bottle of brandy, if you please."

"Yes sir." The elf replied, coming out of his bow. "Would the company enjoy snacks, sir? Weston can make sandwiches and cakes."

"That would be lovely, Weston." Hermione supplied. "Any chance of roast beef and piccalilli on the sandwiches? I have a bit of a craving."

"Of course, Miss." And the elf popped away.

The silence between those who remained was deafening and after several minutes, it was too much for Hermione. She had to say something and curiosity was getting the better of her.

"Tempest, you said you had a daughter? How old is she? What's her name?"

"Her name is Jewels and she is nine years old. She and her grandmother are still at the safe house that Anton warded to keep us safe during the war. I am only here because my mother spoke my name three times; it called me out of his wards and through these ones. As I'm assuming the wards here are erected with Prince blood, naturally, I could get through without injury. Of course, that begs the question, how did you get through?

Hermione, Tempest and Eileen all looked to Severus for an answer, whom smiled at Hermione.

"The wards allowed Miss Granger through because we are soul bonded through ancient magic and that bond has been sealed." He turned to Tempest and sneered. "Soul-mate trumps blood, _sister."_

"So without this ancient bond, you wouldn't have had to fuck a mudblood? Bad luck, brother. Can it not be broken?" Tempest asked smirking at Hermione.

Hermione hadn't thought of that; _without the bond, would Severus have still chosen me? Did the bond affect his interest, his libido, his heart?_

Although Severus heard her thoughts, he didn't respond to her insecurity via telepathy, he chose to respond to his sister's question to put Hermione's at rest.

"I have no idea whether or not the magic which bonded Hermione and I can be broken or reversed; I have not researched it, nor do I intend to. I am happy with my little Gryffindor witch; happier than I have ever been in my life. She accepts me for who I am; flaws and all; she understands my past, my apparently insane family, and she chooses me anyway, as I choose her. She is the steadying hand on my temper, my place of calm and because of this amazing witch, who just happens to be of a non-magical heritage, I have freedom for the first time in my life, a life that she saved. Do not question my loyalty to Hermione Granger because I have been blessed with the good fortune and luck to be placed in her good graces and there is nothing I would ever do to lose my place in her heart."

Hermione, uncaring of the audience after hearing Severus make such beautiful and open statements of his feelings, dived into his lap, straddled his legs and kissed him so forcefully, so completely that he was winded and gasping for air.

As she begrudgingly pulled away and turned back to the other witches in the room, her cheeks slightly pink at her brazen show of desire, she noticed Eileen's hand was over her heart and she was close to tears at her son's declarations and Hermione's rather blatant response.

"Touching." Tempest commented sarcastically, "I never thought I'd see the day you were so utterly pussy-whipped, brother."

"Proud to be so, _sister_." He said without an ounce of self-deprecation in his voice. "Tell me," he continued, never taking his eyes from Hermione. "Did you not have Dolohov so utterly beguiled as my beautiful witch has me?"

"Antonin and I are none of your business. Of course he loved me but he would never say such things about me because he knows… he knew I would have considered him weak for saying so. I'm sure he felt it though."

With a pop that made Hermione jump as it broke the tension in the room, Weston appeared with a bottle of decanted brandy and a plate of sandwiches. Hermione had a feeling he'd picked his moment, waiting until there was a lull in the tense conversations.

The food and drinks were enjoyed in relative silence, each member of the group stealing occasional glances at the others with varying degrees of resentment, hatred, respect or love. But once the food was cleared, it was Hermione who spoke first.

"Tempest, can I talk to you privately for a moment?"

"Why would do that? Why would I give you the opportunity to hex me? Not that you'd be quick enough."

"I have no intention of hexing you, unless I need to defend myself and if you don't think I'd be quick enough, what do you have to lose?"

"Fine." Tempest said, standing.

Severus gave Hermione a questioning look and squeezed her tighter.

"I'll be fine, I promise." She said, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Do you two ever stop being all soppy? It's sickening." Tempest asked with obvious disdain as Hermione left her lovers lap and joined the disgruntled witch.

"We'll pop out into the garden I think," Hermione announced, seemingly unaffected by the tension of the others.

"Lead the way then, mudblood." Tempest followed with a sneer.

Once in the garden and alone, Hermione rounded on Tempest.

"Right, now I don't have to watch what I say, you can shut up with all your snide little comments and listen for a minute." Hermione began. "I may be a mudblood but I'm still a witch; a powerful one too; a witch who helped to take down Voldemort and saved your brother's life so you can give me the respect I fucking deserve."

Tempest just rolled her eyes.

"Before I get into what I really want to say, I want to assure you that I truly am sorry for the hurt you must be feeling over the loss of your father and husband. They were not good people and I know Voldemort was incapable of love but as I said earlier, you obviously loved him and I'm sure you loved your husband too. No-one deserves to lose their loved ones but you haven't lost _this side_ of your family," she said, gesturing back to the house. "Severus and Eileen, you are each other's blood too, whether you want to let them in or not. Voldemort took them away from you; you grew up without your mother and your twin brother because of him. I know things will be tense between us for a while but if you want a relationship with them, if you want to have a mother and a brother who will act like a real family, not just because of blood but because of love, then I will support it and help you to get that. I will never have my parents back but I have Harry and the Weasley's, and now I have Severus too. He is my family and by extension, so are you. If you and I can find a way forward without animosity, the others will follow.

Tempest was looking at Hermione seriously, considering her words. The silence stretch on as neither said anything.

"I'll think about it."

"Dumbledore was quite the fanatic of love being able to conquer all, you know? And while I don't agree with all of his philosophies and how he meddled in everyone's lives, I agree with him on that. Nothing but love could have given me the courage to get to where I am now and I want you to have the same kind of love in your life."

"I do. For my daughter. And still for Antonin too."

"I'd love to meet her. What's she like?"

"Too much like the Prince line of the family." Tempest said, the first genuine smile Hermione had seen on the other witch's face since she arrived. "She has quite a soft temperament but she's wildly intelligent and her magic takes more after her father's than mine."

"I think I might like her, given that description."

"The feeling would likely be mutual. As much as Antonin and I discourage it, she's fascinated with all things muggle."

"You really can't give the muggle thing a rest can you?"

"I've never tried."

"With Antonin, erm… gone, will his wards dissipate? Will you be able to bring her here?"

"Possibly. Some of the wards will dissipate others will not. And as I've been pulled out of them, I can't get back in either. They were set up for protection, no-one in, no-one out. It's only because the 'taboo' father set on my name was more powerful than the wards that I'm here."

"So you can't get to her?"

"Not at the moment. You're stuck with me, mudbl-… erm…"

"What if she said your name three times? Would the taboo call you back to her?"

"Erm… maybe. I don't know. I hadn't thought of that."

"Come on, let's head back into the house. Severus might know the answer. He's wildly intelligent too and I'm sure he'd love to meet his niece, no matter how much he complains about it."

Hermione linked her arm into her sister-in-law's, gripping tightly as the other witch tried to pull away.

"I know you don't like this and to be honest neither do I but I'm willing to falsify a truce until we find a real one. I know it will make Eileen happy and I'm sure very deep down in a place he doesn't even acknowledge, it will make Severus happy too. Now, it's getting late and we all need some sleep to calm the frayed nerves. I'm going to bed and then tomorrow morning, we're going to get your daughter. She's safe where she is, right?"

"Yes, she's safe where she is; she's with Lenka... erm... Antonin's mother. Severus was right, you really are the most Gryffindor…"

"I know that probably isn't meant as a compliment but I'm taking it as one." Hermione said as they re-entered the house.

* * *

As the two witches headed back toward the library, they heard the hushed voices of Severus and Eileen. Neither was able to catch anything too juicy in the heated conversation but "Dumbledore's secrets" raised both Tempest's and Hermione's eyebrows, as did "there must be a way to find out for sure, I'll go talk to his portrait. If he's the only one who knew, then he can be persuaded to divulge it to someone living. Do you really think it's her?" from Severus as they neared the door.

When the witches re-entered the library, the obviously private conversation halted abruptly and Severus turned to see his sister and his soul-mate enter the room, a look of apprehension on his face that they may have overheard something delicate and relief that they hadn't killed each other.

Hermione walked straight up to Severus, who was now standing, wrapping her arms around his waist and lifting up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek.

"I think I'm going to bed, babe. It's been a long, dramatic day and I'm exhausted. Stay and chat with your family if you're not tired. There must be so much for all of you to learn about each other now so much is out in the open." Hermione said in a quiet voice, though loud enough for Eileen and Tempest to hear.

Severus weighed his options: talk and more possible arguments with his mother and _sister_ or bed with his beautiful young lover whom had saved his life and given him her heart. There really was no contest.

"Hermione, you are my family and hopefully without causing offence to mum or Tempest, I'd much rather spend the rest of my night with you." He said lovingly, making Hermione beam with happiness. He turned to his mother and sister, "Tempest, Weston will have prepared a guest room for you; mother, will you please show her where it is?"

"Of course, darling. I'll see you in the morning. We can have your favourite breakfast. It's so good to have you home, Sevvy."

"Mother, I am not five years old and my world cannot be made right as rain again with the promise of bacon sandwiches."

"I'll just do cereal then, shall I?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"No, mother. Do the bacon sandwiches. I'll see you both tomorrow. Goodnight."

As everyone said goodnight to each other, Tempest a little stiffly hugging her mother, Severus realised he'd just got played by his mother; nothing too sinister of course but he recognised the sly nature of getting her way... _there may be a little more Slytherin in her than I thought_. Maybe a little of Tom's deviousness had rubbed off on her in the beginning, when they were happy. By the time he withdrew from his musings, he and Hermione were on the stairs and he had a question.

"Babe?" He asked, wondering about the endearment she had used.

"I just thought I'd try out it. It's popular in the muggle world. I can find something else, if you don't like it… _Sevvy."_

The arm around her waist dropped down to squeeze her bottom for her cheek and they headed to bed.

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**A/N: I was a little bit nicer this time, no obvious cliff hanger, except getting Jewels into the story; hopefully that will be next time. This chapter felt mainly like filler – introducing Tempest, getting a few flared tempers, concreting feelings a little more between Hermione and Severus and attempting to find a bit of common ground between Tempest and Hermione. I know I went heavy on conversation again but it really is my wheelhouse. Hope you all enjoy. **

**Please, do all the good things – read, review, favourite and follow.**

**Lots of love**

**Moon Out!**


	19. Chapter 19 - A New Start

**A/N: I must heartily apologise for the fact that I have been absent from this story for three months. It was by no means intentional but a combination of writer's block, writing other stories, work, chatting endlessly with Dash and Claw (my coven witches of ideas, support and Slytherin goodness), not to mention wanting to do this justice when I returned to it; the weeks just slipped by and I lost track of the story. It is now back though and I am more that pleased with the direction this story is taking. Well, I think you've waited long enough… enjoy!**

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Chapter 19 – A New Start

In the darkness of dreamless sleep, Hermione allowed her mind to rest. It had been so very active for so very long that now that she was cuddled in the arms of a man she surprisingly loved more than her heart could bare, she felt safe in letting her endless control slip. The sweet all-encompassing darkness was a beautiful freedom she had scarcely imagined possible; it felt like floating, gliding through the currents of an inky black abyss… so stunningly reminiscent of Severus's liquid gaze.

It took time to realise she was quite _literally_ gliding through that inky abyss; perhaps hours until her consciousness caught on to how her body, as in the astral plane as it was, seemed to be sluiced in graceful movement through endless depths of cosmic waters. She felt very large even though the elegance of her swimming was unencumbered by the hefty size.

Hermione was surprised that she didn't feel cold; if she was truly in water, they must be above her body temperature. Of course this consideration led to the wonderings of whether her body was actually of a standard temperature or whether it was somehow cooler or warmer than usual. She wished there was a mirror or another being with her to gain such knowledge. It was beginning to annoy her, despite the serenity of her location. She decided to take stock of her surroundings and see what she could figure out on her own.

_Okay, let's see… large, heavy body but can clearly swim magnificently. I'm not cold but that doesn't mean much as maybe I'm regulating external cold, would that mean I'm reptilian? Oh Severus is going to love that… WAIT! Severus… he's with me. Physical plane, literally right next to me and a Master Legilimens. Maybe I can reach out to him; can he reach my mind in his sleep? _

"Severus!" She tried to call out but no sound emerged from her astral mouth.

She focused on feeling for his mental presence and it took barely any time at all to realise that she was already within it. Her inky abyss was the liquid depths of his beautiful molten onyx gaze – the eyes are the doorway to the soul and she was quite happily swimming around in his. She had no doubt he was aware of this… perhaps he was seeing as a dream, like she was. It was intoxicating to know that she was in his soul, swimming around in his mind as if she were a Master Legilimens herself.

Suddenly very uncaring about her appearance in this new form, her inquisitive mind relaxed completely and she chose to simply enjoy being accepted into him in this way. It was intoxicating and as her mental and emotional self revelled in the envelopment of him, her physical body, which lay snuggled against Severus Snape breathed a contented sigh and shivered with the excitement of not a sexual anticipation but soul-filling one.

* * *

TAP! TAP! TAP!

The physical sound had Severus grumpily pulling away from enjoying his witch swim around in his soul. He had no idea how she got there mentally but he wasn't complaining. Her astral or soul form was unexpected and the reason for it required more thinking but he would talk to her about it and get her opinions when she awoke.

_Owls shouldn't even be able to get through my damn wards. Too easily intercepted. With the Ministry in disarray, I have no intention of letting those bastards haul me away to Azkaban to await trial. Potter isn't as powerful as he thinks if he thinks he has enough sway to keep me from that fate._

TAP! TAP! TAP!

"Alright, alright! I'm coming, keep your feathers on." He grumbled under his breath as he peeled himself away, begrudgingly, from his soul-mate.

Opening the window and letting in the snowy owl, Severus rolled his eyes. She looked like Potter's owl but he was sure Hermione had told him that Hedwig didn't make it through the war. A shame really; she had been a beautiful specimen and had donated several feathers to his potion stores over the years. The owlery was such an excellent resource of scavenging for a Potions Master.

He took the envelope from the bird without ceremony and began to break the seal, assuming it was for him. Only Potter and McGonagall knew Hermione was with him. Oh and Weasley and Lovegood. But he could think of no reason for any of them to contact him so soon. It wasn't like any of them cared for him. Not in his mind, anyway.

The owl snapped her beak at his fingers and he realised he had made two mistakes… the first, opening a letter addressed to Hermione; the second not feeding the bloody bird. He summoned an owl treat and quickly rectified the latter, closing the window as the snowy owl turned away and took off into the low, grey light of a cloudy and blustery morning.

As for the first mistake… what to do… as much as he hated to admit it, and he barely did so even to himself, Hermione's infinite curiosity and her need to know everything was rubbing off on him to some degree and he was itching to know what was in the letter. Would it be good or bad news about his pardon? Were some of the Order warning her off of him? Had they found out about Tempest?

He took a deep breath and pulled on his occlumency shields for the first time in three days, trying to stamp out the urge to read her missive. It was criminal to read someone else's mail; not just an invasion of privacy but an actual crime. Granted it was one of the lesser laws but on the precipice of Azkaban as he already was, he surmised there was no point adding fuel to the already towering pyre of his misdeeds over the last twenty years.

The curiosity wouldn't be kept at bay for long though. He left the letter on Hermione's bedside table, called Weston to make tea and toast for in fifteen minutes and went for a shower to freshen up.

* * *

The hot streaming jets of his muggle-installed power-shower eased his tired muscles and allowed his mind to drift a little as he washed his hair thoroughly with his home-brewed pepper and cedar wood shampoo. Black pepper oil was what accounted for the 'shine' of his hair which was the subject of his much discussed greasy appearance. Unfortunately he was unable to change it to 'dry out' the appearance of his hair. Black pepper was the only ingredient he had found to combat his excess dandruff problem. With how dark his hair was, if he didn't use the black pepper, his hair would look as if it was made of clean but think strands of snowflake obsidian – not a look he wanted. He was too young to look ironically, like salt and pepper. He'd stick with greasy git – it suited his role as the formidable potions master and at least he could blame it on the potions.

The water sluicing down his body as he soaped along his arms and over his chest, reminded him of Hermione's little foray into his dark soul and the form she had taken…

_So, three forms: the lioness, the phoenix and a water dragon. All three so very powerful. The lioness makes sense for Little Miss Gryffindor, a connection to her house; a true Gryffindor – brave and courageous in both standing by Potter, going on the run, living off the earth. Not to mention coming to my defence after all the crap of the last year. A little Hufflepuff of her maybe but even so badgers are symbols of earth too - an earth connection too then maybe. And the phoenix would connect her to both air and fire elementals… oh dear sweet Salazar, she's being accepted by…_

"Severus…"

Severus's thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sound of his little witch tentative peering around the shower curtain and giving him an appraising once-over with a slight smirk.

_Gods, she's sexy when she smirks like that._

"What some company?" she asked with a coquettish smile.

He held out an arm to her in answer and she stepped in to the shower and his embrace as naked as the day she was born.

Their actions did not turn steamy right away. She nestled into his embrace under the cascade of beautifully hot water and sighed happily.

"I never knew I could feel this kind of happiness. It feels as if you and the Universe conspired to put this sweet, warm, bubbly feeling inside me and I don't even have to hold onto it amazingly tightly for fear it's going to get away. In fact the more I just allow myself to feel it, the stronger it gets." She said quietly into his chest as fingertips lightly stroked up and down his back, her breasts positioned on his abdomen. She really was very tiny.

"You are too good to me Hermione but I'll be damned if I let you go now." He said in reply, drawing her tighter into his embrace. "I too do not feel the need to hold onto the feelings you give me in a vice like grip but I am going to nonetheless. They, much like you, are too precious to just release."

"Speaking of release…" she let her voice and her hands slip lower, until the backs of her fingers ghosted over his beautifully taut bum before grabbing it whole-heartedly and pulling him very determinedly flush against her.

Severus groaned at her forcefulness, knowing that it was a good sign that she was so forward in initiating their intimacy. He knew he would grow bored all too easily and quickly if he was to always be the one to prompt their couplings. It seems that was not to be case and he thankfully allowed his groan of pleasure to end in a relieved sigh.

"It appears you woke up rather frisky this morning, Miss Granger."

"The sight of you naked in the shower made me frisky. I woke up feeling very relaxed and then slightly disappointed that you weren't next to me to take advantage."

She reached up on her tip toes to kiss at the join between his shoulder and neck as her hands weaved into his hair, rubbing herself seductively against his growing erection which rose impressively between them.

"So, you decided to come and take advantage of me? How delightful!"

"Absolutely. I couldn't…" she began kissing along his chest, "possibly let an opportunity…" licking over a nipple that made him shudder, "pass to enjoy your nakedness." She moved over to his other nipple and just as she gave it a very healthy suckle, Snape's knees buckled and he let out a straggled moan which he apparently uttered without the go ahead from his brain.

Hermione was just about to smirk at having apparently found a very sensitive spot on her lover when she was hoisted off her feet and thrown against the cool tiled wall that had been at least eighteen inches away. She squealed in excitement at his show of masculinity and unbridled passion. She may be a feminist but she was still impressed with his dominant showing… maybe even a little wooed.

Her legs instantly came up around his waist, her feet hooking together at the base of his spine, one heel digging into his rather delicious rump as her arms came up to rest on his shoulders and she leaned her diminutive weight against the wall behind her.

His hands were warm as the massaged and kneaded her own pliant bottom as he attacked her face, neck and ear with kisses. Those gorgeously big, calloused and curious hands were also working their way to her molten centre with each squeeze and as they reached her slit, pulling her open with fingers slipping both over her pulsing, throbbing clitoris and into the liquid heat of her core, Hermione keened, arching her back and moaning at his welcome intrusion.

"Don't make me wait… please." She begged. "It's been too many hours since you were inside me. Please. I need to feel you… fucking me… now… please."

Her words were broken by her short gasps each time his fingers slid up over her clit and beckoned against her g-spot at the same time. And just when she was seconds from giving herself over to the delicious mounting pressure he was creating within her, he thrust upward hard and she saw stars… the sweet precipice of ecstasy shattered and she corralled off of it explosive bliss.

Entering his witch as her pleasure exploded was the most satisfying moment of Severus's life. Nothing had ever felt quite as wonderful as joining with his witch while she clenched and constricted around him. It was a struggle to fully penetrate her convulsing so strongly as she was but he powered through and was rewarded with the wailing scream of his name coming from her lips.

He stayed quite still as he watched he slowly catch her breath and just as she was about to open her eyes, which he knew would be like smoke over honey, he began an agonising slow withdrawal, making her mewl with loss and pleasure at the dragging friction.

"Fuck me…" she whispered.

He held himself three-quarters of the way out of her and said in as much of his teacher tone as he could muster…

"What was that, Miss Granger? You must speak up if you want me to hear you over all of your panting and…"

"I said… FUCK ME…" she screamed the last words in both frustration and amusement at his teasing. "_Professor_. It's time to endorse foolish wand waving, or in this case, I believe the term would be wand-thrusting, siiiiiiir."

Her sentence ended on a wail as he heeded her advice as thrust high and hard into her anxiously waiting sheath.

His pounding was relentless and Hermione felt every thrust, every flick of his hip echo through every fibre of her being as she met his hips on every pounding they gave her. She bounced on the invading Slytherin force with equal parts of enthusiasm and determination, fighting the feeling of bonelessness which was a languid side effect of her last orgasm and powering through to the next like the true Gryffindor she was.

Her fingernails dug were digging into his shoulders as she held on for dear life and as she began to consciously clench her walls around her… moaning at the added friction, a groan escaped him as his balls tightened ominously and he ground into her with everything he had.

Sensing his impending completion and wanting to be soul instigator of his utter lack of control, Hermione focused all of her attention of tightening around him like a vice, knowing that his orgasm would trigger hers when she felt his essence spill.

"Fill me with your essence, Severus. It makes me so hot when you come inside me."

With a growl at her sinfully debauched words, his last thrust was almost painful as he came with the force of a steam train… hollering her name so that it ricocheted from the acoustic walls of the unwarded bathroom.

Her breathless second orgasm followed, as predicted, as she felt his warm seed splashing against her cervix. His name tumbled from her lips in a low, primal voice that could hardly be recognised as hers and her body jolted and jerked as she fully embraced the pleasure of Severus Snape being inside her. With a final shudder, she rolled her hips one last time before hazily opening her eyes.

"I want to do that for the rest of my life." She whispered.

Severus gave her hips a squeeze of appreciation before replying.

"That is very good to hear because I intend to do that for the rest of your life." He whispered back.

"_There's no point whispering now, brother dear. Your morning caterwauling shagfest with the mudblood has woken the entire house. I've cancelled your tea and toast in bed with Weston… it sounds like you've worked up an appetite. Full breakfast in twenty minutes."_

The voice from behind the bathroom door made them both freeze instantly but the amusing words set Hermione into a fit a giggles as Severus snorted.

"Will you please stop giggling? We apparently don't have time for another round now my sister has taken over Weston's orders and if you don't stop, I will be starting all over again."

"Yes dear." She said with an over exaggerated and loud kiss to his lips.

She got a playful swat on the bottom for her cheek which made her purr as he went to put her down.

"Do you think you could carry me, please? I don't quite have my legs back yet."

A smug expression clambered onto his face but she didn't begrudge him the feeling of pride. He'd earned it.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione had managed to use the shower for its original purpose and they were both dressed and ready for breakfast. Tempest had been right; they had worked up an appetite, proven by twin grumbling sounds from both stomachs present.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, finidn an opened letter on her side of the bed.

"Ah yes, I forgot about that. It came before you woke up. I assumed it was addressed to me which is why it's opened but I haven't read it. Do you want to have a look before we go to breakfast?"

"Might as well." She said, picking up the envelope and removing the letter. "Oh, it's from Harry."

Snape internally rolled his eyes. He wouldn't do so outwardly for a while, considering the arrogant little git was her best friend.

Hermione scanned over the words quickly and then read aloud…

"_Dear Mione,_

_Hope this reaches you wherever you are. I thought you could do with an update. Snape's pardon is ready to be signed. Kingsley has been sworn in as Minister for now until they can arrange an official gathering for whoever is left of the Wizengamot. The only problem is that even with my testimony and Kingsley's assurance that Snape was on our side, Rita Skeeter has dug her claws in and the first edition of the re-established Prophet has been rather nasty toward him and as usual she has twisted everyone's words. The public want his blood, Hermione and they're not going to stop until they get it… Skeeter has managed to rally the wizarding world into a flash mob. They're like villagers going after the beast in that Disney film you like._

_We need you Hermione. It's time for your downtime with Snape to come to an end. Kingsley wants to see both of you at 2 o'clock; Snape to sign his pardon, you to give your statements and start on giving evidence for the trials. Get to Grimmauld for about 1 and we can talk then._

_Oh and just so you know, Ron is planning to give you the silent treatment over you and Snape, or at least pretend you don't exist. I've told him he's acting like a jealous prat but I don't think he listened._

_Narcissa Malfoy has been released thanks to my testimony that she saved my life, Draco is on probation given most of the stuff he did was while he was still underage and his help with us at the Manor. He actually shook my hand when I said that. I'm still in shock. Lucius Malfoy's trial is the one everyone is talking about. They want your testimony about everything._

_Well I'll see you at lunch time. Hope you and Snape are both okay._

_Love Harry_

_P.S. Did you like the owl? She's Hedwig's mother. Her name is Anouk."_

"Well that was a lot of information. It seems our seclusion is at an end." Severus said slowly, pulling Hermione in for a hug.

"Yep. Time to face the world." She replied, resignedly.

"Indeed. But first we must face my… _family._"

"Oh yes… how could I forget?"

* * *

The sun had burned away the clouds of the early morning by the time Severus and Hermione entered the dining room. Eileen was sat at the lavishly dressed table, reading the Prophet with a frown marring her face; Tempest sat rigidly to the left of her mother, facing forward, hands in her lap, like the perfectly bred, expressionless pureblood princess.

"Good morning, everyone." Hermione said brightly, refusing to let the sombre mood spoil her delicious morning afterglow.

"Mudblood." Tempest nodded to her in recognition. "Brother."

_Well that's progress. At least she nodded._

"Good morning, my loves." Eileen said warmly. "I'm guessing from the noises that woke us up today, you both had a very good morning indeed."

Hermione had the presence of mind to blush, Severus smirked and pulled Hermione into embrace, kissing her cheek.

"She's just teasing, love."

"Do us a favour, dear brother and throw up a few wards next time."

"Just because you're not getting any, _sister_…"

"And whose fault is that?"

"Touché! But this is still my house and if I don't want to put up silencing charms so that I can enjoy my witch's echoing screams of pleasure, then I will not. If you don't like it, you can leave."

Tempest rolled her eyes and turned away from the too happy couple. It felt unfair that they got to be all loved up when she was mourning the loss of both her father and her husband.

"The Prophet is back with a vengeance. Rita is being her usual loathsome self again."

"We've heard. Can I see?" Hermione asked her future mother-in-law.

Just at that moment, Weston popped in and asked if they were ready to be served. They assembly of witches and wizard all nodded their assent and they table magically filled with all manner of sumptuous English breakfast foods – sausages, bacon, fried eggs, hash browns, baked beans, tomatoes, black pudding, and fried mushrooms – along with a huge stack of buttered bread and toast.

"Oh this looks amazing. I'm starving." Hermione exclaimed, excitedly. "Weston, you're amazing."

Weston beamed at the complimentary witch. Severus once again became smug at being the cause of his little witch's ravenous hunger.

"I assume the paper is not extoling my virtues?" Snape asked his mother, already knowing the answer.

"No, my darling. It seems Rita has decided you are her new scapegoat for all that is wrong with the wizarding world."

"Don't worry," Hermione said as she speared sausage, egg and beans onto one forkful. "I won't let anyone come near you. I've just had an idea which I think might really put the cat among the pigeons."

"Oh?" Severus asked, squeezing Hermione's knee under table. "Surely that brilliant mind of yours isn't so brilliant as to have found a solution in less than ten minutes?"

"Oh ye of little faith." She teased. "Have you not known me long enough yet to know my brilliant mind can do absolutely anything it wants to?"

Her hand moved to sit on top of his under the table and she moved it further up her thigh until it was at the very apex where his thumb slowly and softly stroked where she was most sensitive. She supressed several shivers as he continued the ministrations throughout breakfast.

"Of course I have, little witch." He replied in whisper against her ear as he kissed down her neck.

A throat clearing had him returning to his breakfast.

"No smooching at the table." His mother admonished.

"Or on the table." Tempest added grumpily.

"Yes mum." Hermione and Severus answered together and then promptly burst out laughing, to which Eileen heartily joined in. Even Tempest smirked a little; although she'd deny it until her dying breath.

* * *

After breakfast, Tempest excused herself to the library while Eileen cornered Severus and Hermione about the young witch's idea for combatting Rita's baiting and the subsequent flash mob.

"Well," Hermione said, taking a deep breath and steeling herself, knowing that Severus would not like her idea, "I remember reading something in the restricted section in my fifth year when I was researching the proteon charm for the DA coins."

"You successfully cast the proteon charm in your fifth year?" Severus asked, incredulous at her talents even then. "That's seventh year work."

"Again, ye of little faith. Anyway, back to the point… the charm I am thinking of for this particular little problem is the reflectorium charm. Do you know it?"

"Yes. It was part of my Charms NEWT course. How will that…" He took a breath as her plan dawned on him. "NO! No, no, no, Hermione, it's too dangerous."

"I had a feeling you might say that but it really isn't. No one would dare touch me now, I'm the Gryffindor Princess, the Golden Girl, the brains of the trio who saved the Wizarding World from Voldemort and I will not have the love of my life injured or killed because the same wizarding world can't see passed the end Rita Skeeter's acidic bloody quill. I just saved your life and I'll tell you something for nothing, if they intend to take you away from me again then they'll have to take me down too and they wouldn't fucking dare."

"Oh sweetheart," Eileen exclaimed with a tearful shriek and wrapped her arms around Hermione."

"Are you sure about this?" Severus said, practically resigned to the fact there was no arguing with the protection instincts of a lioness.

"Absolutely. I am not going to let all those short-sighted, prejudice, dimwits take you away from me. You're stuck with me Severus Snape. Forever."

He hugged her then, a tear falling down his cheek.

She wiped his tear away, calling him a closet softie.

"What is the reflectorium charm exactly? It's been a lot longer since I did my NEWTs.

"Oh," Hermione said excitedly, loving the opportunity to explain her choice of magic to save Severus. "When the reflectorium charm, which we will publicise the use of, is cast, anything that happens to Severus physically, happens to me. If he's hit in the arm with a stinging jinx for example, not only we he feel the sting and get a welt but so will I. Publicising that we have the charm enacted means that any attack on Severus is automatically seen as an attack on me and anyone who is willing to attack me will get a one way ticket to Azkaban. I'll make sure of it."

"Shall we get it done then?" Severus asked, impatiently. He wasn't happy with her plan but he appreciated the sentiment behind it and it wasn't as if they had another plan.

"Let's do it!" Hermione replied, excitedly. She'd been dying to try this charm for two years.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, that ran longer than planned. To be honest, these things usually do. It could have actually ran longer… I was going to add the casting of the reflectorium charm and have Severus think some more about the water dragon dream – there are significant things coming along with that later. However I wanted to post this before work and so I stopped at a good spot; nowhere near my usual cliff hanger standards but I'm out of practice. **

**Please review, follow and favourite. **

**Love & Blessings**

**Moon Out!**


	20. Chapter 20 - Soul on Fire

**A/N: I write these opening author notes after writing the chapter. At the moment though I am only half way through this chapter… around 2k words… but I felt it necessary to explain what I had planned for the chapter compared to how it is turning out. So… this is what was going to be Chapter 20:**

**The Reflectorium Charm**

**Lemons**

**Severus and Tempest have words**

**Lunch with Harry**

**Meeting with Kingsley**

**So far nothing on that list has made it into this chapter. I blame my lovely friend Dash entirely for this veering from plan as I read her latest chapter of 'Your Secret to Collect' before I started writing and believe I got inspired by an altercation between Tom Riddle and Lucius Malfoy. Well she blamed me for not reigning in her writing yesterday on said chapter so it's fair turnabout that I blame her for inspiring my (*cough* J.K's) characters going off the deep end.**

**I shall not keep you any longer with my incessant babbling and blaming. Enjoy… and please remember to review.**

* * *

Chapter 20 – Soul on Fire

Hermione, Severus and Eileen all headed toward the master bedroom. Hermione had told them that it was better for her to lay down when the spell was cast as it was expected she would feel light-headed as the mirroring effect took hold.

"So…" Severus began, trying to keep his nerves in check as he watched Hermione make herself comfortable on his bed, "Who casts this charm? You or me? My memory is rather rusty on the specifics?"

"Oh, we need an external caster, like with an unbreakable vow." Hermione said, pleased to tell Severus something he was unsure of; know-it-all tendencies died hard, it seemed. "I was hoping your mother would serve as ours. I can't see your sister wanting to do it somehow." Hermione replied matter-of-factly but turned to Eileen with hopeful eyes.

"Of course I will, dear. This is a very brave thing you're doing for my son and I couldn't be more grateful. It seems I am twice indebted to you for protecting my baby."

"Mother!"

Hermione giggled as Eileen's face showed her to be completely unapologetic for embarrassing her son a little. It's what mother's do and she had been painfully hidden from being his mother for too many years.

"I do this gladly, Eileen. Please don't feel indebted to me. Severus has protected me and my friends in one way or another for seven years and while that certainly isn't why I'm doing this – to repay the favour – I think it makes sense that I should be allowed to do so anyway. Besides, why wouldn't I do this to protect the…"

"Love of your life?" Snape interjected. "Don't think I missed that little proclamation just because I did not mention it at the time."

"Of course you didn't miss it. You never miss anything. You were a spy for almost twenty years. And on top of that, I didn't intend for you to miss it." She responded to him with a sweet smile and the love she felt for the love of her life shining in her eyes.

He smiled back - an expression so genuinely heartfelt that Hermione wondered for a second if Severus had let his occlumency shields die completely in that moment. That smile took her breath away; it reached his eyes and made them twinkle just as surely as if Dumbledore had been standing before her. A thought she'd cringe over later. In Hermione's opinion – and probably his mother's too – Severus Snape's heart and soul were lit up brighter than a Christmas tree and in that moment he made the entire room glow with a very contagious joy.

"Okay, you two – enough mushy stuff. You can declare and proclaim all those lovey-dovey gooey feelings later. Right now, we have a spell to cast."

"Yes. Right." Hermione said evenly, suddenly all business. "Do you have the book Severus, so your mum can look over the specifics? It's called…"

"The Compendium of Ashes – A Grey Practitioners Guide to Advanced Charms."

Three pairs of eyes – one pair black as a starless night, one as golden as sunlight through honey and a third as dark brown as the richest chocolate – all snapped toward the bedroom door. It was as if they'd forgotten the prodigal daughter/sister was in the house.

Tempest stood against the door frame, her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she took in the positions of her most loathsome family members and the mudblood. The latter was on the large four poster bed, looking simultaneously self-righteous, in love and some lesser form of fierce. Her _brother_ seemed to have abandoned his impassive, unreadable façade and now wore his love for the little witch like a badge of honour as he moved to sit beside her and take her hand. Finally, the mother, heiress to great Prince fortune, who had abandoned her daughter and sided with that old coot Dumbledore and his ridiculous band of misfits and outcasts.

So this was what was left of her blood relatives – both blood traitors whom had fought against her father and seen his end, and the end of her beloved Anton; she supressed the thought of having to tell her own daughter that her father was gone as it twisted in her mind and made her stomach roil. Jewels was a sweet girl and this news was going to break her little Hufflepuff heart. Of course it was too soon to know for sure where her daughter would be placed in Hogwarts but much to her dissatisfaction and palatable denial, Tempest had an inkling that her baby would be a bleeding heart badger.

_Perhaps the news of her father's passing, even her grandfather's vanquish would pull a rage and thirst for vengeance out of my precious Jewels. I can only hope._

"What do you want, Tempest?" Hermione suddenly said, breaking the tense silence of the last ninety seconds. "We're busy."

"Tut, tut, tut; such disrespect! Brother, I just can't understand what you see in this… this… thing. She isn't even pretty enough that she should be able to tempt you with womanly wiles. Is it the bird's nest that attracts you? We all know how much you loved that fiery parrot of Dumbledore's. Or maybe it's the itty bitty titties that set you off? Honestly, after the last mudblood obsession you had, I though your interest swayed more towards someone with at least a handful worth of cleavage."

Severus was drawing his wand to blast his sister out of the room with a low impact bombarda but Eileen step away from the bed, her eyes trained on the now incensed Gryffindor. Having seen Hermione's outbursts at Mr Potter and Mr Weasley for disrespecting the sanctity of the library, she knew the young muggleborn witch was about to explode. And Hermione did not disappoint.

Waves of fury rolled off of her and she launched herself from the bed, diving at her future sister-in-law, transforming on the fly into a flurry of scarlet and gold feathers. Flames combusted into existence around her as the phoenix animagus burst out of its human host and flew with purpose at the startled dark witch.

Hermione's beak aimed directly for Tempest's eyes, much as Fawkes had done with the basilisk in Harry's stories of the Chamber of Secrets. Blind fury boiled in the depths of her soul at the gaul, the audacity, the fucking balls of this… this… vile excuse for a witch who had berated her and her love. She wouldn't stand for it, she would not bear witness to such sickening prejudice hippogriff dung any longer. The war was over, she'd had enough and this bitch of a sister-in-law was going to learn some respect or pay the price.

It seemed, in her mental dressing down of Snape's sister, she hadn't realised quite how tied to her emotions, the flames of her transformation were. The fires of her change had been fuelled by such immense hatred – hatred of every time she'd been called a mudblood, every time she'd felt rejected, ostracised, or ridiculed by this magical world; every time she had felt alone and every time she had walked away for fear of losing her temper, that temper now exploded. So great was her ire that her raging inferno had transformed too and instead of the benign, cleansing, rejuvenating flames of phoenix fire, she unleashed the very fires of hell from her body and fiendfyre licked at the robes of the bitch in front of her.

"Hermione…" she heard being yelled, repeatedly but it was muffled, distant. She could barely hear it through the red fog of fury that smoked her vision and she could not associate the name with herself. Hermione found herself lost to an endless and perpetual cycle of anger and fire - the rage fed the fires and the flames fed back into the fury. She was lost to it, burning…

"Hermione. Stop!" Pleaded Severus. While his own anger was palpable, he had only just discovered he had a sister and the woman he loved was currently hell bent on killing her. Even if he felt Tempest deserved the inferno for her comments, he knew Hermione would be overcome with guilt if she succeeded in killing the woman. It took only seconds for him to realise that the flames were not usual phoenix fire but fiendfyre and he knew that her rage was blinding her to the fact.

He watched his mother cast the aquamenti spell over and over trying to expel the flames but he knew it was useless. This fire was a combination of phoenix fire, dragon fire _and _fiendfyre. Possibly, Hermione was the only witch in the world who could produce such a powerful display and keep it burning.

_The fog dispersed, the flames parted, the ire cooled as Hermione's view shifted to a completely different scene. Severus had his wanted pointed at her over the heavily charred remains of Tempest's body. Eileen sat in a corner, sobbing, silent tears aimed at the floor, refusing to see, refusing to accept the loss of her temperamental daughter. _

"_I could never love you after this." Severus's words cut through the fire like ice cold rain. The hatred in his eyes, the cold soul-freezing hate in that impenetrable black gaze directed at her made her whole soul shiver. She was no longer lost to the fires and anger but lost in the abyss of that eternal black gaze._

He was just about to grab her, burning and consequences be damned; he'd make her swim in his soul again to calm her, praying that the dark, cool abyss like waters would douse her fire, when it all stopped. He had only taken three steps towards her but had caught the eyes of the fiery bird as he moved forward and it seemed like his aura had done the hard work for him.

Tempest scrambled away while she had the chance, scorched robes and a few defensive burns on her arms, muttering something along the lines of "crazy bitch". He'd have to deal with her later.

Hermione was still in her phoenix form but perched now on the floor, very still and looking almost cold in comparison to moments ago. She hadn't turned to ash to revert to human form as she had in the garden the day before, she was just very still. Severus approached her cautiously, making no sudden movements.

"Hermione…" he called softly, "Hermione, can you hear me?"

The room remained silent; Hermione remained a statue of red and gold near the door.

Twenty minutes later, after performing every spell he could think of to revive her, awaken her, even reignite her inferno, he sat back resigned that he couldn't reach her alone and looked to his mother who had remained silent as she watched her son's desperate attempts to bring Hermione back to him.

Eileen was unsure she would be able to do anything or the poor girl. The situation felt a little out of step; Hermione was one of the brightest and compassion people to ever grace the magical world but she had attacked so viciously that it was as if she were taken over, possessed by someone or something else. Eileen felt torn… she owed Hermione so much, the girl had saved her son but had also just almost killed her daughter.

At her son's desperate, pleading expression, the witch knew she could deny him nothing. Not after all he'd been through. He deserved the happiness Hermione could give him and they would get her back together.

* * *

An hour had passed. Eileen and Severus had researched all they could about phoenixes; emotion based magical fires, combination of dragon fire and phoenix fire (something that had apparently never been seen before and so in terms of research was a dead end). Severus had even asked Weston if he could shed some light upon Hermione's affliction.

"Miss Hermione is lost in the abyss, Master. Her soul detached from her body and I suspects that it is now residing in yours, Master."

Severus looked like Voldemort had just reappeared and slapped him across the face, such was his shock. Hermione Granger was floating around in his soul somewhere; had completely abandoned her own body and somehow set up residence inside his. It was impossible. It was ridiculous. It was true.

As soon as the elf had said so, as improbable as it seemed, Severus had begun searching for her. He felt that he knew his own soul well; he knew it to be a place that darkened with each loss and sacrifice, an entity which became less substantial with every promise, vow or dark mark he had forced himself or been forced into taking. When Hermione had been there just this morning, she had found it peaceful and a way of completing her acceptance by the elements. The four elements had reached out to her and she had easily accepted three but until this morning, until she had completely relinquished herself to him, the fourth had been elusive.

Her lioness animagus was her earth connection… he could sense that right away; he Gryffindor side was strongest and had given the abyss of his soul a sandy foundation of surety. He could feel his dark soul was shaped by that very deep down foundation she had created. She was a blanked of golden sand in the dark turbulent seas of his soul and he relished the feel of her there.

It seemed the fire elementals had blessed her as well, overly blessed her if her outburst earlier had been anything to go by, which of course it was. Within Hermione it seemed air and fire were heavily connected and fed each other as surely as her fire had fed her anger and vice versa. He could not recall a time when he had seen her on a broomstick but it seemed as a phoenix she had accepted the freedom that flight provided, just as she had used the fires of her animagus form to cleanse her anger.

That left only a water connection to find and it seemed that connection was to him… Severus's emotionally driven soul; the place where he hid his emotions, the place that was buried deeper than anything else behind his occlumency shields was her connection to water… an escape to where she could feel and drown in her emotions.

The connection felt incomplete still in his analysis. As his mother brought him a cup of tea, he examined his memory of her soul form as it swam through his. A dragon was a being of fire, but she already had the acceptance of the fire elementals, so why did the form remain a dragon but switch to the aquatic variety? It didn't make sense. The answer was niggling just out of reach and it was annoying him. He knew the answer; it was sitting there waiting for him obscured by…

"What was that?" Eileen said suddenly, breaking his thoughts.

"What?"

Severus's eyes snapped up to his mother in an instant who was eyeing him strangely. His wand was already in his hand and he scanned the room with it.

"Your eyes, darling, they flashed purple. Dark purple really, more like…"

"INDIGO!" Severus shouted and jumped to his feet as if he were a boy half his age. "Oh, of course, why didn't I see it before? Her acceptance by the elements, her intellect, her triple form, quadruple if you count her human one. Mother, you're a genius."

He moved to her quickly and kissed her cheek.

"Weston," he called, excitement brimming within him.

The elf popped in within seconds at the sound of his Master's call.

"What can Weston do for you Master?" he asked, bowing.

"Weston, I need you to go to Harry Potter and Minister Shacklebolt and tell them something important has come up and Hermione and I need to reschedule for tomorrow. Assure them that we are both perfectly fine and let them know, I promise to explain everything when I see them. Then bring Draco here. Do not take no for an answer. It is vital that he return with you."

"Yes Master." Weston said, excited by his unusual chores and the chance to meet the famous Harry Potter.

"Mother, Hermione is an Indigo Child…"

* * *

**A/N: And there I leave this relatively short chapter with no charm, no lemons and no meeting. I promise they are all still to come but this part of the plot apparently wanted to come first and who am I to complain when particular vipers are nipping at my brain… namely the Draco viper, the Elements viper and the Indigo viper – persuasive little things they are too.**

**Hope you enjoyed me getting back into the cliffies… I have been too nice for too long in not giving any serious one so now the evil Slytherin witch is back (me, not Tempest - lol) and going to leave you hanging for a little bit while I work on 'Are You Okay?'**

**Please, favourite, follow and review if you don't do so already. Reviews make me smile, and make me write more, I'm really wanting to hit the 200 mark for reviews on this chapter… give a girl a hand with that x**

**Love and Indigo Blessings**

**Moon Out!**


	21. Chapter 21 - Indigo Glow

**A/N: My dear fans and devoted readers. The time off from this story has, although probably frustrating for all of you, been completely invaluable to me. I needed the time to re-evaluate the story and realise that I had started writing exclusively for the audience of my fics, rather than for myself. For that reason, I lost passion for this story and the others I'm writing because I held myself to other people's standards instead of my own. If it helps with the frustration – consider thinking of the first twenty chapters as 'Season 1' and now I am beginning 'Season 2'. **

**Much love for your patience as I have kept you all with baited breath. **

* * *

Chapter 21 – Indigo Glow

The air on the mountain was stiflingly still; frigidly cold and painfully biting. Draco didn't care. He sat on the steps of his parent's 'safe-house' cabin - if you could call a five storey, twelve-bedroom log mansion a cabin - using wandless magic to manipulate the snow into dancing serpents. Lucius and Narcissa were fighting. This had not been an uncommon occurrence in his childhood but they'd held their tongues for the past three years, under Voldemort's reign of terror. Draco chose to do what he had always done and ignored it. He couldn't even cast a silencing spell; Lucius actually having forbidden the use of unnecessary magic, lest it interfere with the wards.

The last three days had been tense and filled with fear for the three Malfoys. Once Voldemort was felled at the wand of Harry Potter, the most notorious pureblood family had attempted to flee the scenes of devastation with both their lives and their freedom. Unfortunately, the remaining _non-corrupted_ Aurors descended on their escape route and off they went to either the Ministry. They had waited all day to be processed, locked in anti-magic cells, wands confiscated. Well, Narcissa's wand was confiscated from Draco; Lucius hadn't had a wand for nigh on two years and Draco had lost his own wand to Harry a few months ago.

By the next day, Potter had once again come to the rescue and Narcissa had been released without charge; Draco was sentenced to a year in Azkaban for the act of allowing Death Eaters into Hogwarts and effectively, accidentally launching the main body of the war and largely contributing to the death of Albus Dumbledore. After Potter spoke in depth about Draco lying to protect his identity though, the sentence was suspended in favour of a three year probation which would consist of returning to school to complete his NEWTs and having his magic monitored.

Lucius was another story. He had been recognised too many times in nefarious situations with other Death Eaters; his name given up by those same others in hopes of saving themselves or reducing their own sentences. It was most shockingly Ron Weasley who had managed to give Lucius a reprieve in the form of not awaiting trial in Azkaban. His testimony stating that having seen how painful it was for his best friend to grow up without a father, and after witnessing how the war had created so many orphans, it wouldn't do Draco any good to effectively make him fatherless. A later part of the testimony revealed that Ron's sudden altruistic nature was brought on by Lucius accidentally intercepting a curse aimed at his brother, Percy. Nevertheless, the court agreed with Ron's assessment and Lucius was free until his trial, albeit with the unbreakable vow that he would not perform any magic considered dark.

By evening on that second day, the three Malfoys were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. They activated one of several emergency portkeys and landed in the entrance hall of their unplottable property, hidden deep in the Swiss Alps. Narcissa considered it rustic-chic and had enjoyed decorating it as such – lumberjack meets haute couture, if one can imagine such a thing. When they first arrived, she had plopped down onto the check fabric, with lace trim of the fainting couch in a very unladylike manner and was asleep in seconds.

The shouting stopped just as Draco let his dancing snow-serpents fall back to the white, blanketed ground before him. He assumed they were either enjoying make-up sex, hate sex, or one had killed the other. As the snow had not shimmered green with the reflection of an _avada, _he assumed the silence alluded to some situation that involved naked parents and so despite finally starting to feel the cold, he stayed outside. _Ugh! No one needs to see that – again!_

The pattern of their pre-Voldemort life had resumed as soon as they landed in the cabin two days ago. It was all too familiar to Draco; screaming matches in which Narcissa blamed Lucius for their involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters and Lucius blamed her sister Bellatrix for his involvement in the first place; at which point Narcissa would blame his father and he would throw back that her Uncle Orion supported Tom Riddle too. This would go back and forth for hours until the curses started flying. Neither of them ever admitted that these raging argument/duels were their own twisted form of foreplay but that was usually what it was.

As a child, at home, he could cast silencing spells and pretend it wasn't happening; escape onto the vast grounds of his home estate on his broom and imagine they were just having tea in the parlour with Uncle Sev. With no silencing spells and no broom, Draco could not force out the resounding evidence of his parents' awful marriage and to top it all off, Severus was dead. There was absolutely no way he was taking tea with them, or acting as a pseudo-marriage councillor like he had in the past.

Lucius had taken his son aside when they first arrived and explained Voldemort's belief that the Elder Wand (from the Tale of The Three Brothers in Beedle and the Bard no less) had allied itself to Severus because that was who killed its old Master. Trying to avoid the rowing of his parents and the belief that Severus was dead, Draco had let his mind be consumed with thoughts of what he knew of wand ownership and allegiance. He hadn't cried over Severus yet; _the biting cold was making his eyes water but that didn't count_.

He knew that the wand chose the wizard; he knew that a wand's allegiance could be won in a duel and he knew that even having a wand gifted to you was not necessarily going to mean it allied itself to you. He had been using his mother's wand for a while now and he was convinced it didn't quite 'like' him. Severus hadn't been the one to disarm Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy Tower, he, Draco had. Did that mean he was the true owner of the Elder Wand? Had it switched its loyalty and full power to him, even if he never wielded it? As far as he knew, the wand had been buried with Dumbledore. Did that mean Voldemort had '_tomb-raided'?_ Ugh! Was nothing sacred to that dastard? "Obviously not", Draco said aloud just as his thoughts became less internal and the deafening silence battered against his ear drums once more.

In fact, the silence was so thick, that when an elf suddenly apparated directly in front of the young Malfoy, he near jumped out of his skin at the resounding crack. Draco was on his feet in seconds. How on earth had it got through their wards? Who did it belong to? It was in a little uniform and looked like a tiny muggle butler. Draco felt suddenly defenceless – he knew elves had unique magic and his mother had had her wand back, presumably as a defence against his father.

"Who are you?" Draco snapped, more out of fear at being discovered that actual malice although he wasn't sure the elf could see the difference as his eyes widened and his small butler-clad body went stiff.

"Weston is my name, Mister Malfoy, sir. Master is requiring your presence, and help. He is sending me to collect you."

Draco thought about what the shivering elf had said. His Master could be anyone. Someone from the Ministry. Another Death Eater. Although, he didn't recognise this elf. He knew most of the servants of the Death Eaters and a few of the Ministry elves too. It was a little known fact that elves were almost as compulsive in gossip with each other as they were in their need to serve. He had caught the Manor elves, too often, hiding in alcoves with a guest elf from a visiting family, sharing whatever the latest juicy tidbit was of their Master's dealings with each other. In a way, it could be explained away as protecting the family from those who would wish them harm; the elf knowing all of the dealings could help with protection in some form or other. Draco doubted this was one of those occasions but…

"I don't recognise you. Are you from Hogwarts?"

"No Mister Malfoy, sir. Weston is the sole elf in the service of Master Severus Snape." He said proudly, straightening back his shoulders, to puff his little chest out.

Draco stared in complete and utter shock.

_Severus is alive? Truly? How? When? Who could have helped him? Who would've wanted to? _

"Mother…." Draco shouted, backing up towards the cabin, "Father… get out here!"

It took several moments for Draco to realise they hadn't heard him and so he excused himself from the elf's presence and headed inside with the dear wish that he wouldn't hear anything too disturbing. He chose to give them the heads up that he was in the house the second the door closed behind him and shouted for them again.

"Draco, darling. What are you shouting about? Has something happened?" Narcissa asked softly but with eyes full of concern. She approached the stairs from the first landing, pulling robes back into place.

'_Ugh!'_ Draco thought to himself, '_Definitely make up sex then. Well, at least they didn't kill each other.'_

"Maybe. We have a visitor outside. An elf called Weston who says he's in the service of Uncle Sev."

"What?" Gasped the elegant blonde as she quickly descended the stairs, calling for her husband to join them, "Weston is here? That must mean… oh thank Merlin."

She flung open the door and hollered behind her again for Lucius.

"Weston, get in here you silly elf; you'll freeze your ears off out there."

"Yes, Madam Malfoy. It's good to see you again. And Master Malfoy…" He added, his large, saucer like eyes diverting to the top of the stairs. "Are you well, Mister Malfoy, sir?"

"Wes, what's going on?" Lucius asked, crouching down to be at eye level with creature. "Who sent you? How did you know where we were?" His tone was soft but demanded an answer all the same.

"Master told me to find young Mister Malfoy. He said it was of the highest importance that I bring him back to the Prince Cottage to save Missy Granger."

All three Malfoys fell silent in their shock and disbelief. They stared, not moving a muscle or exhaling aa single breath in the face of the elf and his claims that not only was Severus alive but that he was with Potter's mud- erm… muggle-born friend (might as well get used to calling her that; it wouldn't be astute to continue with the other term now) and she was somehow in danger.

"He's alive?" Lucius asked finally, not bothering to hide the relief or incredulity from his voice.

"He is Mister Malfoy, sir. Missy Granger, she save him, sir and he be well. But Missy Granger be trapped, sir. She be animal and Master must be thinkings that young Mister Malfoy can be of some helps."

"Granger saved him?" Draco suddenly asked, also unable to hide the emotion in his voice – shock, relief, disbelief.

"Yes, young Mister Malfoy, sir. She be saving him with potions and water and love, sir."

"_Love?_" Narcissa asked in astonishment; one perfectly sculpted blonde eyebrow arching up.

"Yes, Madam Malfoy, sir." The elf said, and then realising he had called her 'sir', brought his ears forward in shame as they tinged pink, his head bowing in embarrassment.

"Never mind a mistake in proper titles, Wes. It's of no consequence. Where are they? Can you bring them here or take us to them?" Narcissa asked, losing her patience a little.

"Master has requested young Mister Malfoy's presence to help Missy Granger."

"Then let's go." Draco said, jumping into action at the chance to both see Severus and get a break from his parents' arguing (not to mention their other activities).

"Weston can transport _all_ of the Malfoys." The elf stated proudly, holding out his arm.

The three blondes each grabbed onto the small suited elf and were whisked away.

* * *

The wait was driving Severus slowly out of his mind. It had only been thirty minutes since he had sent Weston off to find Draco and usually, it did not take Weston thirty minutes to do anything. The elf was superbly efficient and adept at knowing every need of his master. Therefore as the seconds ticked by to thirty-five minutes, forty, Severus began to worry not only about Hermione and how he was going to convince his godson to free her from her feathers via a connection that was unproven but was worrying about Draco himself. Could Potter's testimony have fallen short? Was the boy locked in a holding cell at the Ministry? What if he'd run to escape the justice he feared he would be given? Where would he go?

"Sweetheart, please stop pacing, you're making me dizzy." His mother said calmly from her seat in the reading area of the library. They had relocated at Eileen's insistence in an attempt to calm down her son. She remembered the smell of parchment had always settled him as a baby; strange as it was.

Her voice hardly registered but he slowed his pace a little. No matter what the problem was, it was taking too long to get Draco to the cottage. He could feel Hermione's turbulent emotions washing through him. It was a strange feeling, as if he was experiencing her shame; the anger had washed away it seemed, as soon as she entered his soul but the feelings surrounding it were still present. The effect of her rage had made her feel as if she had disgraced herself before him. She felt as if she had fully given in to her Gryffindor urges and came out fighting – 'guns blazing' or in this case, _fire-blazing_, as it were.

As the seconds and minutes passed by, he felt the strangest sensations affecting him – years of doubt and fear and worry seemed to be melting into nothing. It was as if his whole life, every torment and moment of loss and despair were being healed from the inside out; as if the emotions he had buried, unable to face or too ashamed to feel were being filtered through long winding channels of understanding and acceptance.

A thought occurred to him as the tension slowly and softly eased from his shoulders with the strength of gradually becoming unburdened of the years of his life… Hermione was inside his soul… could she be filtering these long buried woes; processing every torment through her logic, compassion and amazing talent for compartmentalising?

His breathing increased with the possibilities of this theory. Was it really possible? Was she dealing with his emotions for him? Healing his heartbreaks and sacrifices? Laying to rest his anguish and regrets? It certainly felt like it. If so, it would be an incredible feat of power, they weren't even in the same room anymore.

_Although_, he supposed, _when one soul swims within another, physical proximity is apparently not necessary._

"Mother, I think Hermione is…"

_CRACK!_

Startled by the unexpected apparition and quite suddenly anticipatory of fixing Hermione and seeing Draco, Severus's head shot up from where it had been blindly staring out of the large library window; his pacing having absentmindedly halted only moments ago, his mind still struggling to comprehend the analytical direction of his thoughts.

"Draco!" He exclaimed in surprise, having almost forgotten the boy was due.

Without even stopping to look at where they were or who else was in the room, with the love and impatience of a little boy, the youngest Malfoy ran without shame or care into the uncrossed arms of his Godfather.

"You're alive!" He breathed, his arms wrapping around the older man's torso as the tears came. "You're alive! Thank Merlin, you're alive!" He sobbed, unable to hold back the emotions. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you in time."

Severus was overcome with how much relief was in the boy's sobs. They had been close when Draco was a child and of course, he had always favoured the boy in regards to marks and help in Potions but as he had grown older, Draco had distanced himself. It wasn't until Voldemort had returned that the true divide in their uncle/nephew like relationship had become strained. On Severus's part, it was because he was trying to maintain the deepest undercover work imaginable; Draco, because he had to deal with the megalomaniac bastard setting up base in his home. Not showing care for anyone other than Voldemort himself was the easiest way to survive such an ordeal relatively unscathed.

"Draco, I am well," he announced to the rest of the room, as well as his godson, "Hermione did a very satisfactory job of healing me. In more ways than one, I believe." The Potions Master said proudly, feeling the relief of allowing true honesty with his friends.

The young blonde wizard stepped backward to stare as his Godfather in disbelief. Not only had the man just complimented a Gryffindor, but the most insufferable know-it-all known to the entire wizarding world. Something wasn't right.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Godfather?" Draco asked, suddenly much more suspicious than a moment ago, and forgetting what Wes had told them about Hermione at the cabin. Taking several steps back toward his parents he pointed an accusatory finger as if it were a wand. "He would never compliment a Gryffindor, especially not _that_ Gryffindor."

Severus took a deep breath.

"My apologies. I thought Wes would've explained. Hermione and I are… well, she saved my life and we're…"

"Involved." Eileen supplied helpfully.

"I did explain, Master Snape, sir." Said Wes quickly in defence of himself as the Malfoy's eyes all went very wide. Lucius's chin almost hitting the floor at Eileen's declaration.

"Wes, would you get us some drinks please whilst everyone gets settled and calms down. There's rather a lot of explaining to do."

"Who are you?" Draco snapped, his body whirling towards where Eileen sat in the reading chair by the fire. The question was muffled by the sound of elf apparition but was heard nonetheless. Whoever this witch was, she was quite obviously suffering some form of befuddlement of the mind to think Severus would consider being anything other than… well… nothing to the brains of Gryffindor.

"Eileen Prince, Mister Malfoy. Severus's mother. Although, I'm sure you would be more likely to recognise my pseudonym… Madam Irma Pince – Hogwarts Librarian." She smiled.

"You never said a word, Severus. All these years and you never said a word." Narcissa whispered, surprise on her face and a touch of hurt in her voice as she took in the older witch.

No one had noticed the door open during the strained introductions and confirmations or that Tempest had silently crept into the room with the same skill in soundless movement as her brother. Her voice silenced, stilled and otherwise created a tightening of the tension already straining those in the room.

"It was for mummy-dearest's protection, you prissy little wannabe. You were never good enough to be amongst my father's ranks; just like your drip of a husband here. As for the boy… well he takes after his father… weak. Pathetic. It takes more than pure blood to do well under my father's reign; it takes strength and power… not vanity and undeserved pomposity. Now, Bella… she's what a witch in the service of Lord Voldemort ought to be. Pure, devoted and just the wrong side of unhinged. She had a nickname for me, you know… when I was at my most dastardly… _BellaDash._ She seemed to use it when I was most like her."

"Bellatrix was a twisted bitch…" Draco protested, loudly. "She…"

"You're _his daughter_?" Whispered Lucius in shock, but his question was lost to his son's defamation of Bellatrix. '_Bitch is probably the nicest thing someone could say about her_.' He thought.

"Yes, but a damn good one. Who managed to get Potter's mudblood screaming on your drawing room floor? Who finally took the Black mongrel out of the family tree? Bellatrix, that's who. The only Black sister to not disgrace herself. Honestly, _Cissy_, if you're mother had been smart, she would've drowned you at birth and given Bella to Lucius. Salazar knows how fun that would've been for him… he deserves that crazy…"

"Desist!" Lucius bellowed, defending his wife in spite of their troubles, maybe he could throw it in her face later that he did so, and attempting to prove Tempest's words incorrect. "Wait…. What are you doing here? Didn't you flee yourself when the war seemed to be heating up? I seem to remember you and Dolohov fucking off back to Russia. That's hardly loyalty now, is it?"

"Actually my darling Anton warded me and my daughter into his mother's compound when father called him to the fight. Interesting story how I got here though, isn't it," she said sweetly, her eyes moving to Severus, "… brother dearest?"

"Brother?" yelled all three Malfoys, before spluttering, questioning and exclaiming as Severus closed his eyes and gave an infinitesimal nod of confirmation, the fingers of his right hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose as if to ward off an oncoming migraine.

"It seems that Tempest here is my twin sister and I'd like to formally introduce you to our mother, Eileen Prince."

"If she's your twin sister… and Vol… Volde… the Dark Lord is her father… that means that you're… it means that…" Draco was staring incomprehensibly at his Godfather before swinging around to his father. "Did you know about this?"

"No, Draco." Severus confirmed. "Your father did not know that I was Tom Riddle's son; I doubt he even knew that Tempest here was Tom Riddle's daughter until just now; even I did not have that information until she showed up here yesterday. My mother and Dumbledore kept it from me. We're not even sure if Riddle knew himself."

"Of course he knew." Tempest added.

As the story of Tom and Eileen was retold to Narcissa and Lucius, with Tempest sharing sarcastic insight and nasty little barbs, Draco excused himself to explore the cottage.

"I need some air." He stated simply before heading for the door.

"Don't go far." Snape responded, a slight desperation to his voice. "I need your assistance with something shortly."

"I'm just going to look around. I won't leave the grounds."

Having left the library, it took a relatively short amount of time to discover all that the downstairs had to offer… a beautiful country kitchen, with a large oak table, an augur and herbs drying on a rack overhead; a drawing room which he practically skipped past, memories coming all too easily of Granger screaming on the floor of the drawing room at the Manor. There was a lavish reception room at the front of the cottage, decorated with ivory silks and forget-me-not blue drapes, a bronze eagle statue on a plinth dominated the far left corner – how very Ravenclaw; a second statue adorned the opposite corner of a bronzed cobra head. Draco smirked.

The main entertaining room looked as if it had never been used; Draco supposed as he ran a pale hand over the sage green, suede sofas that Severus hadn't had much occasion over the last however many years to celebrate; a life time really.

What he was really curious about though was the upstairs. He had only had one occasion in the past to visit his Godfather's quarters at Hogwarts and he was more than a little intrigued by what a place that allowed Severus to truly relax, looked like. Not to mention, there was that implication that Madam Pince had made, that Sev and Granger were… what was it she said…? Involved? If anything warranted upstairs investigations, it was that.

* * *

There was a door ajar down the first beige carpeted landing; it seemed quite obvious that the set of rooms it led to were the Master suite. Draco stepped silently into the room and halted in his tracks… the bedding was mussed which was indicative of either a very fussy sleeper, something Severus was not, or more fun activities other than sleeping. The air seemed permeated with both the smell of sex and something that smelled suspiciously like charred… he sniffed… fabric?

'_How very curious.' _Draco thought to himself, still trying to understand a world in which his Godfather was shagging Hermione fucking Granger. It was difficult to not picture such a thing whilst trying to reach this understanding and each time he did, he shivered. _'That's almost worse than mother and father. Ugh!'_

Walking into the room slowly, he made his eyes focus on anything but the bed; he did not want those imaginings burned into his mind. There was a large set of high windows, a bookcase, a reading chair, a fireplace… a strange statue in the middle of the floor that he almost tripped over, so focused on not thinking of what happened in that bed. _What is that?_

The charcoal like feathers didn't seem as though they would crumble at a single touch like one would assume but appeared to be actual feathers, made of… well, whatever feathers were made of. Severus had mentioned something about feather composition is a Potions class in fifth year but the specifics escaped him now. Visually, the statue looked like a black phoenix; as if it was an albino phoenix taken to the opposite extreme.

He remembered visiting a muggle museum when he was about eight years old with the American au pair who looked after him, Erina Nyxx; it had housed a number of… what had she called the animals… stuffed? Yeah, that was it… stuffed animals. That's what this black phoenix looked like. As if it had been alive once. Except none of the animals in the museum had a strange glow emanating from them. This phoenix did though. It was glowing purple and the closer he got, the stronger the light coming from it glowed.

It seemed this phoenix had some sort of magic. All the magic he'd ever seen or heard of… and that was a lot, manifested as green, red, gold, blue or silver. He's never seen it purple before. What kind of magic manifested purple? Where could it come from? He knew that any magic glowing green was channelled from the earth; red was from personal passions, gold manifested from the sun, blue was emotion-based magic and silver channelled energy from the universe but purple…? That was unheard of… wasn't it?

Almost absent-mindedly, Draco knelt down beside the statue in his need to inspect it further. Curiosity getting the better of him, he ignored the possibility that this was a bad idea and he was interacting with an unknown power. It felt as if he wouldn't have been able to stop even if he wanted to, as if that deep purple glow was calling to his soul. It beckoned to him and whispered, reached out toward him to pull him closer until without realising it, Draco was gliding his fingers along the glossy, black feathers of the phoenix.

Next thing he knew, he was flying backward, propelled by the force of bright indigo flames as they erupted from the no longer present statue of the black phoenix. In its place stood Hermione Granger; stumbling, disorientated and blinking soft, slow eyelashes over glowing indigo eyes.

* * *

**A/N: I wish to say a huge, colossal, massive, divine, celestial, astral and magical thank you to TinkerVine LeFay for her unwavering support whilst I have been writing this chapter. She has truly and magnificently helped me to kick my muse repeatedly in the bottom so that she spews inspiration. Vine, daaaaaaaaarling, you are a blessing and this chapter would not be present without you. So much love.**

**Also, the rest of the Coven will be showing up along the way. Dash is already here of course, as Tempest; a role has been assigned to Claw but she will not show up for a while (mini-clue as to character: Mrs Slytherin); Nyxx got a mention today and I may bring her into the story 'physically' at some point but not sure where; everyone else will be slotted in as and when I find something that suits them.**

**Many, many thanks to those of you who have come back to this story after the very long wait. It was entirely necessary for my psyche to put this down for a while and walk away but I am so glad to have my dumping ground back for crazy vipers that slither across my mind. Please review as I love reviews, they make me smile and give my muse ideas that I must write down.**

**Love and Blessings **

**Moon x**


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